Thursday, July 03, 2008

Numb Gallop

It's interesting not saying anything
that could get you hurt--or spanked
by your palsied hand. In midlife
there is a sonic boom and then
the room smells of eggs and teeth
and little gets done when crisis
adds your name to the list in glittery
crayon all sparked and dazzled
with the ketchup or is it blood
that you crave when your face
is spent from ear to ear? It's all
I can do to keep this motion
going. A wad of cash
gets you a good seat, but
not good enough
to see through now.
Have a pleasant night but
not so pleasant that you stop
tapping on the window.
That means hello.


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