my shoes
look like
Ronald McDonald’s
and sometimes,
wearing them,
I wonder what
it would be like
to be bolted
to a playground’s
cement slab
in front of that
fast food franchise
and then be stolen
by some high
school seniors.
Archive for April, 1991
0
I sat in the corner
with my head in a “ziploc” bag
just to see if the dead baby joke
was funny.
A big stone stood, still,
tall, the shadows fell along
quietly crawling,
rolling sunshine through the sky;
up, I looked, and winking,
understood.
I want a magic litter jabber
to jab myself
in the abdomen
and then walk around picking up
the ideas that fall out
like “fruit loops” from a box with a hole in it.
I want a rainbow magnifying glass
to look at
my cereal collection
and then write a lot of nonsense
about their pockmarked textures
and then tear it up and throw it into the wind.
monsters, large, march
from cities tall, sprawling;
setting sun falls
upon walls broken, shattered.
their huge tails
slide into the sea.
when the wind comes skipping along
its third story sidewalk outside my window,
I can hear the cries of the playground
and the song of the balls on the asphault,
the reminiscent taste of gravel and
the feeling of gripping the chain-link backstops;
the anticipation of recess.
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