Tuesday, June 14, 2011


i don’t know what
i’m gonna do
when the oil runs
make room
save up
joke about
the place
like a stick
about academic
learn to hum
and brandish
hammer the metal
         back on
to my grandfather
who’s dead
             that wall over
brandish the creaks
in memory
of the floor
of that old
house under
hiss my last
name in the dark
                 the word “glass”
                 turned over
like a stone flat
            at a box
on the wall
in red
for stickball—that one game
at all
i played
for real
in my life
til i was good
                and envied
by other kids
their sticks
           ways to lose
           boo santa claus
           throw batteries
at the loud mouth
             prima donna
who played for the
             day’s weather
and the pretty flag
their grandfathers
all saluted too
where do you come from
where do you come from
who do you think you are
             booing me

Tuesday, June 7, 2011

no more mister softee

you are a donkey, mister softee
you are all lyrics     forming worms
that never end        mister donkey

you are the creamiest, dreamiest
ding-a-ling down the street
you are a softee, mister ding-a-ling

down the street        say it in spanish
first            rico sauve, señor asshole
do you wanna start a band?

it’s the song of summer, mister soft-serve
picture the amazingness of my
concession        i am a milkshake, mister

sundae            listen for my store
on wheels        my worms of exception
i’m like       it’s better than yours

you are a highlight, mister dee-light
but i am the method man
of the creamiest ding-a-ling down

the street       come on, mister softee
come on