Wednesday, August 03, 2011


Make it Blow Up

It’s something we can do now.
A loud sparrow at my feet
after seven years of poem.
My brother in the dementia

I might as well be.   Can this
photographer make me look
as good as Metallica?   On
the 38 bus?   I pass on politics.

But I don’t mind starting again.
An attitude?   I’m ashamed I
never did.   Throw up.   Throw
up your hands.   Hand over fist

over toilet seat.   Sleep while I
tell you this.   This movie
dangles like a spider
in front of a black SUV.