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Poem of the Week

Roll Off

Roll off the side of the ship, and hook up the IV to the dead millionaire councilman down in dry dock whose mentally ill sister is stranded in a Des Moines state facility. I can’t accept your charity or your chance encounter with luck, besides, we bear no relation, one to the other or the ur-other. Why bother, brother, if all we can hope to achieve is the ambivalence of the obvious connection. To all of this, I say, the Sunoco sign just exploded, but we were out of gas anyway. Mom & Pop soda jerks and the old soft shoe left over by the arcade remain pure nostalgia for the general audience. All of this left over stuff----does the most relevant matter or not, and if not, why, and if so, why not, and when and if you decide, let me know. The most important thing is that you mutter. Can’t hear a thing? Join the crowd that left just after the last seventh inning stretch for the next to last mission. Impossible? Just say no to that so that we can or cannot understand. Know what I, it means? The last thing we ever wanted was for you to be confused about our intentions, which were for your own good, as if we could ever hope for anything else, being who we are and who you are and whom we all hope to become.

Posted at May 3, 2007 11:46 PM

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