A surreal poem about a memorable Friday I spent with friends. |
Like this circle that I sit in now Yes, that’s how it started With grayscaled sight and flickering hands Adjourned and to the bus lot The first left so we took another With our prodigal savant To dwell in his sex dungeon Where I rode a blood red horse And strummed a stringless guitar Big Bird juice boxes grew from my breasts So that our accomplice could siphon their sustinence As the helpless traffic looked abjectly on Traversed the lawn on which a great cross burned And dropped into Maridia, where caverns wait With sad and ancient waters The steady sinking sands proved too strong Forcing us to depart We rambled ‘round the crosswalks Robbed a bank by the drive-thru But only stole the teller A DJew lost in his dailies Who makes $10 an hour I have no money, you see He gave me a piece of his chicken strip As I pondered the secret sauce While watching our artist make his McGangbang “Thousand Island Dressing...” Plus the semen of the branch manager,” he answered We hoofed it to Moe’s opium den Where the lanky fiends ate TV dinners And bought dessert from their stone-carved hero Mapping cover points among the swings and slides We prepared for next week’s war Returned to the streets that hide Maridia Encountered glowing drunks on the obscure horizon “Approx. 5 tangos spotted” I spoke through a borrowed scope Moe gave the order to fall back, but we were spotted My damaged floppy feet could not keep up With the limber sprint of my comrades I heard one enemy’s footsteps impose on mine As this agent inquired me quickly, a knife at my chest His demeanor just as soon was warm and light And I gladly laughed the spike in my pulse away One flawless friend, the artist, stayed at my side Calling birds, we walked in a darkened ellipse Circumscribed for lifetimes Until finding a yard strewn with nine bicycles The mouth of Sophomoric festivity We browsed the stars on our weary backs Before being asked to watch the heavens On someone else’s lawn I found another friend as the faithful one was snatched away And in his home, a potent blue drink was drunk Christened Figure 8 As graceful waves escapred from a harp We played the game of Chairman Mao Though rules and swimming sounds Brought about a needed sleep And on the morrow, we bought guns Fin |