Damn I am Green Eggs and Ham said sam. After that first hit of acid
4
My Multicolored Cranium
My multicolored mini marshmallow guts
are on the precipice...
so close to
THIS.
my brother and I,
5...6...
in front of a microwave, brave
like blind little astronaut's.
6o seconds short
of Technicolor
sugar
sandwiches.
Expansion expanding
under neon lights
like approaching the moon
and then
BOOM!
through gridded plastic windows.
pink, green, white
in waves
a microwave, a memory, a microcosm
of us.
of childhood
as explained to you as explained to us
in the colors a child could color.
Technicolor marshmallow sandwiches.
I am approaching
childhood. absolute. zero.
Unfortunately old enough now to appreciate the bliss of ignorance,
and marshmallow sandwiches,
and astronauts.
I am approaching
a marvelous marshmallow explosion
all over the insides
of my microwave skull.
And the passers by,
like my brother and I,
shall stand in equal parts awe and disappointment
at the waste of a sandwich.
...when all I've ever wanted
was a stick
and a campfire.
Untitled
It's amazing how a person can talk so much
and say so little.
If Indeed
If indeed the world is subsisting
on little else
than guilt, ignorance, greed, gratefulness...
or the meatloaf mixed fruitcake catastrophic misinterpretations
of the three...
....I strongly dislike
meatloaf...
If indeed there be a G to the Od ...
like the blood in my veins, and yours, and theirs, and that meatloaf...
He must look at us
like 10 year olds with our fingers up our noses
debating the finer points of Plato
on the playground
and sharing Shakespearian sonnets.
If indeed the so called human spirit could as easily equally be seen
as being no different than that of beasts, at least,
in the fact that it is essentially only instinct
and Darwinian desperation
to wake up
and make babies...
but theirs is,
more often, more moral.
If the world is subsisting, however selflessly, selfishly,
like me...
indeed
subsisting only on the very act of subsistence...
Then,
in a land of blank sketchbook pages, tick tock, take it,
second hands, save yourselves, or each other....
if that be your drug of choice.
drugs,
and other such distraction,
it just so happens that happiness
is;
the highest prized intoxicant
on the market.
A thought on Poetry
If you think.
You can write poetry.
However,
if you think you can
write poetry...
or
you think you should,
or should know how to write poetry.
You can not write poetry.
My Multicolored Cranium
My multicolored mini marshmallow guts
are on the precipice...
so close to
THIS.
my brother and I,
5...6...
in front of a microwave, brave
like blind little astronaut's.
6o seconds short
of Technicolor
sugar
sandwiches.
Expansion expanding
under neon lights
like approaching the moon
and then
BOOM!
through gridded plastic windows.
pink, green, white
in waves
a microwave, a memory, a microcosm
of us.
of childhood
as explained to you as explained to us
in the colors a child could color.
Technicolor marshmallow sandwiches.
I am approaching
childhood. absolute. zero.
Unfortunately old enough now to appreciate the bliss of ignorance,
and marshmallow sandwiches,
and astronauts.
I am approaching
a marvelous marshmallow explosion
all over the insides
of my microwave skull.
And the passers by,
like my brother and I,
shall stand in equal parts awe and disappointment
at the waste of a sandwich.
...when all I've ever wanted
was a stick
and a campfire.
Untitled
It's amazing how a person can talk so much
and say so little.
If Indeed
If indeed the world is subsisting
on little else
than guilt, ignorance, greed, gratefulness...
or the meatloaf mixed fruitcake catastrophic misinterpretations
of the three...
....I strongly dislike
meatloaf...
If indeed there be a G to the Od ...
like the blood in my veins, and yours, and theirs, and that meatloaf...
He must look at us
like 10 year olds with our fingers up our noses
debating the finer points of Plato
on the playground
and sharing Shakespearian sonnets.
If indeed the so called human spirit could as easily equally be seen
as being no different than that of beasts, at least,
in the fact that it is essentially only instinct
and Darwinian desperation
to wake up
and make babies...
but theirs is,
more often, more moral.
If the world is subsisting, however selflessly, selfishly,
like me...
indeed
subsisting only on the very act of subsistence...
Then,
in a land of blank sketchbook pages, tick tock, take it,
second hands, save yourselves, or each other....
if that be your drug of choice.
drugs,
and other such distraction,
it just so happens that happiness
is;
the highest prized intoxicant
on the market.
A thought on Poetry
If you think.
You can write poetry.
However,
if you think you can
write poetry...
or
you think you should,
or should know how to write poetry.
You can not write poetry.