Tuesday, October 30, 2012

Another Birthday, 2012

Another Birthday, 2012 

I thought for a minute, that I would live with a day-one priority list
As if acts, pointed spits of intention could be thrust towards
Manhood, substantial credence, valid work on the impetus, or some crap like that
I realized I have no place to go, but to wander in thought 

One day I might start something
No one is waiting on my paycheck, so I invented some
By giving money away,
Then I feel like an asshole for contemplating the admission 

I wanted to be grand today, have one of those good days
The kind one resonates with haughty savor like I did something there
Maybe have a beer, I have two left in the fridge from that time that guy came over
I am afraid of what I might do with permission to drink alone  

I cook a lot, especially on weekends
Big vats of chicken and Andouille gumbo, Tasso jambalaya, Gulf Shrimp Creole
I pack the remnants into Tupperware in a roux of illusion
As if my refrigerator is stuffed to the brim rather than naked… emperors eat well 

Hell, after I quit going to church, some Saturdays to Sundays
The only places I go are the farmer’s market and the fish monger 

The garden my daughter and I planted when she was over
Has half-blooming flowers on the left
The right half is gray dirt; we planted red onions, cilantro
Ghost peppers, sunflower seeds, nothing ever came up 

The spring rains, the fall hurricane was Isaac this year
Only one with a flood 

I saw a lion go right up to a cheetah on satellite television
Ate his throat, usually big cats don’t attack like that
Fast did not flitch, the muscles crushed on the savannah 

The machine, the cash flow projection, the international venture capital infusion
I do not really feel like vomiting in that bucket with a hole as of this hour
Maybe in ten minutes, when I quit masturbating artistic nonsense poetry
But in this space, nah, the old man can prove his metal before I continue to pedal 

My skin cancer hole is healing well; the cells are filling in like a jelly doughnut
Replenishing itself naturally the way personified sugary blobs would
If they had plans for world domination like Krispy-Kreme Hitler’s 

Lots of people go out of this world at the blade of a fast food drive through
I went cold turkey about four years ago; at least I have that going for me  

I wonder what color a zebra’s penis is
I bet the monochromes bite 
 
I told my co-worker yesterday that I think Iran is full of really smart people living double lives,
one way for the street, one way in their homes,
America and the U.N. are trying to implode the theocratic leadership behind the secular figure heads as their currency plummets;  

I also said it was kind of a bitch move to worry so much
about 3,000 people dying on 911 compared to the aftermath
America can’t take a punch, without losing control;
I guess you are not supposed to say that shit in Franklinton, Louisiana,  

Country Parish fair was last week; town hall was closed for three days
I hope nobody at work realizes or tries to make conversation about this birthday thing
I would really rather parse worlds; plus I still feel that disinclination
From human contact; I am more comfortable entering, watching, and leaving silently 

Why does anyone have to talk to anyone?
Thirty-four years still have not figured that one out yet
We have computers now; the beautiful web, I can type, type, type
Just like my old memo notebooks, I can spew and don’t have to encumber skin 

I can bathe in a lounge of the silent oblivion; How glorious!

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