Friday, August 28, 2009

Today's Lunch Poem is Going to

You Can't Like This Anymore

under thinking the obvious can be ambidextrous
the life of which panders to the unambitious
arrogantly the flowing life of which unrolled
around and around the cushioning cloud cover

never flung possible anteater man challenging
cosmic overload trash machines in France
can a man come into the woods in a boat?
can an electric semblance of reality reverberate?

a picture of a truck painted on a cigarette
where rain signifies elasticity of majesty
if orange strips of paper flip and flap, flop
and caustic pan-fried basketballs dribble

pink clouds darken, sun-stricken skies flying
streaks purple orange black and gray
and hammers fly, tragically at the end of day
in a dwindling stream the feet are throbbing

naive at best, confusing and dry, but swinging
make an emotional commitment to sacasm
while the continuous check is discontinued
and the international job listings riffle listlessly

guess about it for awhile while trinkets snowfall
clamps close about the checkering tweed hats
and furious at life the windows spenify
until every monstrous fountain dwindles

Thank You

1 comment:

  1. This gives me nightmare bad memories of cube land. But there's hope in it, too.