April 4, 2017

drink the red and blue kool-aid folks (oh yeah!) ........................... NaPoWriMo2017 #4 ....... a cuddly Chimera poem





does kumbaya still rhyme with coup d'état 
do you worship the blame do you need the blame 
do you want the blame do you fan the blame 

in a side note I remember taking a girlfriend 
to a comedy show in the 1980's 
the one with the "...you know that I know Ed Norton 
wants to fuck Ralph Kramden in the ass..." routine 
as splendid as the spleen is 
so was Eddie Murphy shoe shined 
by Lorne Michaels, one smart canard 

we stood in the doorways 
a middle path home to poem land 
we took to gang structure drive thru and byes 
no one said anything but we did pass the hat 

how about that, television 
is still the drug of the nation 
fucking fake, rake me over hot coals 
souls dying to go to hell it seems 

this poem is already there 
how about you and I square dance 
and shave edge some dimes 
to coat our bodies in silver 

Moon looks at us, laughing 
She likes being occluded red 
We Love Her, when we're fed 
by Her while on a raft singing 
songs with made up lyrics 
topical ointments and road food 

meanwhile the air smells 
like they shot it full of dead horses 
bear scat and scavenge-d
scattered roadkill 
the eagles are desperate for respect 
as birds of prey, the crows all caw 
crawling wired "we saw you"s 
hovering over the dumpsters again 
there is whimsy in their cries 
vulture culturing beer tabbed strings of pearls 

 She gathers me 
in smiles and wear 
I swear to the silent rapping 
against my heart 
a wet Spring night 
is the place to start 
wearing one's self 
where there are no moments 
that cannot be limb-ed 
against the cry 
of Frankenstein-ed skies ...  

how did She know 
the handbag would pair so well 
with the hen toothed poem 
and any regard I carried 
life, limb and the pursuit 
of exhales ...

sometimes Edward you're so far up your own ass 
that you're like a baby's mouth on a nipple with your uvula

meanwhile the trees just shudder and leave me alone
I went outside and felt alive in the rain ...

sometimes the light bearers clip, 
cut and tuck their wings 
to fit into all the places humanity 
goes to hide its spiritual side ... 

release your inner Kraken please they whisper ... 

otherwise humans, 
you are Norman Bates-ing 
Sweet Polly Purebread intentions 
of going into the light 
when you might just like yourself 
with all the shenanigan wool over your eyes
 parlor trickery-ing dickering docking Love 
as down payments for being held up for Life ... 

EJR ©

2 comments:

  1. I love this one ... especially the last few lines.

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    Replies
    1. And how I do appreciate you for saying such and more ... and as you can probably tell these NaPoWriMo poems are as much channeling as they are writing ... brightest blessings (S) ...

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