The pull of gravity
and the sound
of leaf blowers
make for manslaughter headaches
citizens feeling
they are owed
much more
than the miracle of knowing
they've come this far
through the
events of their
private superhero movie .
The world has ended
too many times,
the center breaks loose
and road repair guys
lift it from the intersection
and place back on its axis,
so many of our rights
have been violated
when dark satanic forces
put mayonnaise on their
peanut butter and jelly sandwiches.
They say bad taste is delicious and
reading is a major cause
of thinking out loud,
I mean
jazz can't make up its mind
what notes to stick with,
poetry drifts from
fond images of picnics
to world war terrors
fast as cars going over
cliff side curves,
architecture is
all pick up sticks
and superglue
gone insane,
I mean
the skyline looks like
cups filled with
sharp pencils
of uneven lengths
reaching to a sky
we can't see anymore,
oh god,
my mood is
darker than
water stains
on black construction paper,
I mean,
what gives?
I am leaving the cape
at the cleaners,
I will wear
my underwear
under my pants,
the initial on my shirt
will be removed
because this is not
a red letter day.
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