Tuesday, November 6, 2012

How Much Is Me?

When looking into the mirror
Under the fluorescent fixtures containted with *new* green bulbs

The DnB breaks across this app, though it's free It can still be cheap The cheapest decisions can deliver the most plagueristic effects If you take your eye off the ball FOR A SECOND THAT ball could bounce off an unsuspecting skull Son, that's what we call the 'bean ball' Believe you me My fine, dwaddle swaddled do-doddler, When two or more toddlers are involved It's what is known as a poo shoot Enter Henri, the best excuse ever made For fine, young ladies wearing boots & jeans There is no satellite to pull down the data Once you've thrown it to the high holy heavens Above the seas of oceanic excuses Wrapped in Sumo weedy bureaucracy with all her friends Spouting demonic phrases betwixt breaks Of nasal laughter forced through the meat grinder How could I ever fall in love with someone Who carries such heavy bags on her shoulders? She flips her ponytail over her porcelain chin To get up and begin again Her march into the darkness du jour Intrigued, as she is, with slimey things Her voodoo artwork is as lost on me As a pinot is to a night train connoisseur Why should I rush to aid those plunging Headlong over the cliff into this dark molasses? Why don't they call their friends in Manassas? Or pray to the Holy LLAMA of Brahma, As the asteroids are handing out their calling cards In the 7th inning stretch When the machines run continual glitch And all the heroines have been exposed To that long lasting final exposure In the museum of chronological photography Etched forever into the interior eye Of the mind Which allows the heart access to the skies

2 comments:

  1. A very interesting read Philip, what inspired you =)

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Inside of this piece is an exploration of the autumn season full of fiery decay and peaceful beauty. The snap of a twig, the rustle of leaves colliding with or in harmony (as the case may be) of the celestial music accompanied by our human concert. We know that life is fragile. We know 'the end is near' , this piece celebrates very present changes and strips away all the coats of cracked and peeling paint. Thank you for your time in consideration of this poem, lovely Lucy. And thank you for your smile.

      Delete