Wednesday, April 26, 2017


Lost/forgot shirt. Left shirt on fence.
Tore shirt, tore coat lining.
[No one ever cared enough to tear down your house]
Thrown shirt, wadded up and tossed in your face,
damp and sweat-smelling. Stolen shirt. Shirt run over
by a van. Sleeves
sewn together. A sleeve you crawl up
and curl up and sleep in. Stretchy fabric tacked
to the ceiling. Strange low-hanging fruit.
Slung like hammocks in the elevator shaft
[Will you die in your sleep] In the back of the cave
Buried in the footnotes     A grand proclamation
reduced to a few jumbled words
in block lettering on the front of a t-shirt
Tiny hooks embedded in your skin    Up and down your arm
Ripped stocking, arguing in Tagalog, your wrists tied
above your head. Someone pounding down the door
egg slap     fell and cracked your head     nothing absorbed
a slick rubber mat     apples that taste like plastic
caterpillar shit glistening on a leaf     the hood of your car
Database of average prices          plastic hangers fused together
I still can't see what's driving you      I still can't see what
you're driving.      Every holiday always turns out to be Easter
Spray painted on the side of the blue dumpster,
NOBODY then underneath that RIP then underneath that CONSUME
I'm trying to smile more. More passion less precision.
Skim a little off the top       Face buried in a magic briefcase
Or maybe that was just the shirt with the company logo worn by the man
holding the mattress sign on the corner,
wiggling and flipping it until his arms are tired.
Letters typed by animals on an old typewriter.
[Will you sleep in my arms]
The philosophers stone which transforms plastic
back into oil so we can inject it back into the ground
Start a fresh marketing campaign we can all be proud of
Why bother using quality materials when
it all goes to threads in the end 

No comments:

Post a Comment