Post Alone

Fragments from throughout the day. 

Untitled Fragments 

           I 

poetry getup's a pyramid scheme - 

built to endure without oversight by

a union of middle managers.

Nose flour gimmicks from

the zine *snap* back

pack, I lace together rat tails

in a lime green hatchback. 

I'd rather run the chucklefuck 

channel than intern at Rolling Stone

and that's a rat-fact.  

       II

Like George Bailey got his 

binoculars bassackwards, 

eye-spy catastrophe with hints 

of Hitchcockian fingerprints. 

This blog's a haunted house-

it can't hurt you. My ghosts

lurch misremembering. Don't

forget you're unreliable: others inertly 

predict you better than yourself. 

     

        III 

Fish and ships are what sea monsters munch. 

I write popsicle stick poetry balm. Hear the   

one? Two crooks stole a calendar: they 

each got six months.  

        IV 

New train set blossoms a pine

needle lone star beat. Gotham

all the time, foolsayers and blues

trails - Chicago knows clowns.