Wednesday, January 26, 2011

What's My Line? b/w Room Service

I pulled the handle like a pantomime
and led a camel through the corridors.
I made a first impression seven times –
Hello, I'm Herb Saunders from Baltimore.

The ballet turned into a pants-fitting.
Nude ballerinas dropping bits of food.
Pull it together 'cos your phone's ringing.
Finish: your snacks and: dancing with your ghoul.

I knocked the door down on my own child
and then skipped through fields of gravel stones.
Coughed up blood until I cracked a smile.
We invoked thee – you answered no, no, no.

We are like puppets with heads exploding –
in our wheelchairs with our guns, circling.

No comments:

Post a Comment