Tuesday, October 8, 2013

Soccer field September 7, 2013



The backlog in the bloodstream is crawling out the dead-meme
Of what all this is for; been round that river current and shivered
Drenched in the cold stops of DWI roadblocks
Facing the police flashlight to the pupils, asking “Had anything to drink tonight?”

Lied to the officer’s face, “Nothing,”  ‘Sure?’ “Yes, nothing.” ‘Keep driving’
Crow on the wire, swill in the belly, forgot to piss on Sunday, got to be at work for a long-Monday
Pour in the whiskey washing with the empty sailing waters that see no end
Leaves falling and winter crystalizes the ice, no paddle

Get out and walk holding the saddle with no horse, pack this back
Luggage and a decade stuffed coat rack of suits and ties, boxes down-sized
From mansion on the hill to rental rapscallion mortgages
Charging two fists for a middle finger extortion to wet up the lawyers

Knock up the coughers to vomit in the parking lot of pharmaceutical scars
Of bones and debris mixed in with the cigarette butts and chicken meat
Exculpate to the marrow, scoop out the drowning sounds of conquistadors
Finding fresh grounds of coffee slurped up pantomime being alive

Put on the fresh face for the dolls and the morning drives
Pull into work for the drudge and the toil, pay at the pump for one more guzzle
No nuzzle, no sanctum, just shakes from the detox of old towns and roadblocks
Ask me again and I’ll lie to your face; yeah I’m doing ok

The garden is withered and engineered to the seed that barren soil is plentiful
In this desert of need nothing know-how and do nothing some-how
In think-blink mad-cows herding together brain disease viral powwows
Terrorist attack slams to blow bits of hoof prints from the sand

So that no one can see that the congregation ever met; to disguise this was just one set
Strutting in circles hour after hours pushing clod to mud contemplating numb
Stop the thoughts; clog the draught from zooming the throat
Until there is absolutely nothing left to emote

Because daddy is weird, or at least that is what daughter has been told
So I told her, “If mommy says I’m weird, then I’m me and I’m weird, because I like being me and I’m a good person.”  Because I am strange and awkward, uncommon and stark
Out sitting on a field away from the parents lined up in the soccer field heat basting

I do not want to be them gnawing on cud, six stomachs and nothing digested
See me sequestered in the shade, reading, watching, listening, saying mute

No comments:

Post a Comment