Tuesday, August 17, 2010

On Not Contemplating On A Bowl Of Fruit #4

today i decided to go on map quest
and put in from hell to heaven as
this is the way i've been feeling
as of recent and the directions
said just go with your instincts
the dream within the nightmare
feeling like a weary cowboy at
day's end needing a mixed drink
like mrs. robinson trying to seduce
felix unger in central park after his
wife dumps him for winston churchill
simply smoking his cigar all alone
at the yalta conference slogging into
my wrinkled and ripped origami boat
taking it back through rough papercut
seas to see what went wrong in my
self-destructive troubled childhood
through subterranean labyrinths
shortcuts and tunnels ripping
off stores and transfixed
and turned on studying
mathematical proofs
and formulas with
the window open
just slightly ajar
hearing the birds
and babbling brook
smelling formaldehyde
and fried chicken through
screen doors of summer
the crazy brothers next
door always beating
each other up
showing up
on top of
their porch
like a bunch of
cowboy casanova studs
hollering--"what's up!"
in their ten-gallons
pushing in the
popsicle stick
doors not so sure
i understand now the whole point
of the marriage game i mean when
does that whole holy matrimony thing begin
damn if my wife doesn't touch me soon i think...

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