Tuesday, October 25, 2011

Obscure Metaphor

Why spend all night refilling water balloons from the tap?

They smash like poems. The shrapnel continuously
rolling off leper’s tongues and trailer park sheet metal.

Real and fake, like Buffalo, New York, Monkey Wards,
Merrimac, Kentucky, Moldy Dead Guy Island,
Cat Crunch Meow National Park,
Monterrey, Mexico, Beirut, Lebanon,
The Caves of San Francisco’s Non Art Community,
The Idaho School of Veterinarian Medicine & Ethics,
Bogotá, Columbia, Lake Charles, Louisiana.

Hell, maybe even South Bend, Indiana.

Smash a beach, watch welts from a liquid whip bruise
a body made of granules. The sand mutates darker as
the water and the sun have their way with it.

The tide reaches for a lady, in a plastic folding chair.
Possibly, her thoughts are of the one who was here
and then departed. Broke onto the shore, only
to retreat back to nature, back to a tortuous horizon


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