PROBABLY THE SONG OF THE UNEMPLOYED SITH LORD
Too much,
heavily arranged, too much
probably
lonely, lost
in the velvet
curtain a mopey ambition
the only
attempt too much to wave
an imaginary
rebellion
dusting the
noble domes
of the Golden
Girls
Probably more
than anything
the Golden
Girls
Jobless despot
weekday afternoons
let’s lap in
the longest nap ever
mysterious
glistening aerosol force
jobless
skyrockets
pink tufa dust
of the Golden
Girls
Who are not
collapsing
who due to a
combination
of boredom and
mind tricks
are mounting
in dreamland
the peon moon
then plunge
into the massive pools
of
self-tanning republics…
Eyes and opal
inlay
ploys
shouldered across
Florida
lilting pudenda
minty phantom
trophy menace
Kind of like a
holograph
with a
man-voice
deflowered
then divorced
I come to my
own
Bea Arthur
enormity
BULLETS BUILT BY DAD
BULLETS BUILT BY DAD
I am back
like a pigeon
hubba hubba
Yahoo
Subliminal Puberty
Insomnia World
Domination Project
like the Past
on Plastic
I wanna dive-bomb some Paleolithic shit
I am back
like a whorish
pterodactyl
the years have
been kind
The Deplorable
Landlocked Reawakening
begins with
deep breathing
in and out and
the mantra
hubba hubba
I am NOT
ALONE!
PUBERULENT
REWRITING
i love u i
love you i hate yahoo
PUBIC
RESTITUTION
my life for
the world to see
I am back
speaking as an
American ho ho ho
poems about me
by me me me
autobiographical
lawn fuses swallowed
hubba hubba
hubba hubba
SOMETIMES NATURE
sometimes
nature plays tricks on us
take puffins
rainbows shape-shifters god-
fluids flowing
up and down the spine
in a
recognizably hysterical strain belonging
to an
unforetold BOOM
it’s true we have all come
to grips with
what clothes are
but not what
they came here to
discover or
spawn that’s why
sometimes
you will want
to get everything
in zebra print
even chaps
for various
occasions
when a vague recollection
of a nearly
sleazy rainbow
burns our eyes
as runtish
ponies stare down
a jury of
fixed features molting
into red wings
molting into sound
sometimes
called stardom sometimes
STARING INTO
SPACE
I wonder what
sort of film
puffins would make
how they might
help
when we are
carried out
two decimal places
to the exact middle
of a bleating
morass
where we’ve
all undergone evaluation
and now know
little fleeting things
will be thrown
at us
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