Kicking thru the weeds in a tin can vacant lot
listening to Mr. Soul on somebody’s transistor
Evidently a Design Flaw
I concentrated on my footwork which
she insisted on referring to as an “exit strategy”
but I wasn’t so sure of the rhyme scheme
in the third stanza
24 Hours to Kill
“If you are expecting poetry to
tell you something you can use, you better
reconsider the wings on the poet’s sandals
and the rules of the game Elegua plays.”
―Duncan
McNaughton
Live from the Forbidden Planet
The distribution of the
divine graces plus seven
sacraments & the over-
whelming realization that
you can’t run from a gorilla
Christ dragging his cross thru yr flesh like a plow
She had that “Let’s get
hammered” look in her eyes
& I said that I would meet her
halfway there
