Sunday, May 6, 2012
the first time I was funny
my hands are cupped, held up to the light
catching nothing, but it feels warm.
my eyes squint through broken Coke bottles
my future's so dark, I need infrared lighting.
it sputters in and out the way the rain does
on those October mornings when everyone
forgets my name and they call me "new kid..."
"let's cut classes, get a couple burgers
because I remembered today's your birthday..."
you shrug and shoulder your tattered
corduroy bag, you hustle me up the stairs.
my heart lifts, a cloud so easily pushed.
you have rings on each finger and a ketchup
bottle in one hand, you bang on the end.
clink clink clink clink clink clink clink.
oh, it's absolute music. a clotted word escapes
my throat nervously, shaken free-I say something.
You laugh, I laugh. the first time I was funny-
that day you twisted and shook something up-
I was pulled through my narrow nothingness
on the other side I have rings on each finger
and a ketchup bottle in one hand, clink clink
clink clink- I laugh, this is vaguely familiar.
You laugh, but it's muffled-
you've face-planted in the mud, heels in the air.
and you don't remember that soggy October.
No you never remember anything,
even though you were there.
What a wild imagination I have.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
Reach for the clouds. . .
Tickle your toes. . .
-
there ain't no other place like you to roam. where I dug in my heels and said "No, I won't come home!" Dancing in the warb...
-
In my dreams I am the fictional version of myself. The one I seek to be in my short-stories and prose. The one who gets her point across but...
-
nipped at the ankles which is how I wander through life sometimes I must be pushed through a door finally opened after years of knock...
-
and now that the anger is gone there may be a few more glimpses like looking out of the window through a thin veil of silk. a look in...
-
motionless sap. ogling your shadow, you have much thinking to do. has the potassium kicked you in the arse yet-and got you going? you a...
-
A woman's stance feet parted so that like a breezy window the mantle opened slightly lets in curves of salty air- but here there is no, ...
-
two squinting painted eyes looking solemn on a leathery face. this knight of the golden age has a 20 gallon bucket of a hat atop his slicked...
-
RICK: Hey Rick? DICK: Yea, Dick? RICK: See that sky roll on by? (points) DICK: ...Oh, my... RICK: Don't i-t'almost makes yer wanner....
-
secret fancies don't really bother me, alright? but know that once you tell me I become either like a turtle and snap my smile...
-
The Opera The eyes of the firing-squad are aimed with lashed cross-hairs for now we, the chorus, all look like oiled up black ducks in a ro...
No comments:
Post a Comment