One Hundred Bad Drawings: Page 6

EVERY FIFTEEN YEARS
or, the story so far

America said, "You are free,"
and her children believed it.

America said, "Have as much as you want,"
and her children said, "more."

America said, "Don't look at those dirty people,"
and her children went over to dance with them.

America said, "Put on a suit and go to work,"
and her children fucked in the mud.

America said, "Everything is in order,"
and her children formed a pit of thrashing bodies.

America said, "Numb yourself,"
and her children slit their flesh open.

So then America said, "You can't have any more."
And her children came after her.

One Hundred Bad Drawings: Pages 2-5

THE DEFINITION OF ELECTRICITY

One of the newer gods,
Yet distressingly similar to the rest:
It flickers and gutters during turmoil
And none can identify its source.
It returns when it returns.
We speak of Power and Light
As if everyone can afford it.

And yet, in the cold darkness
You find yourself acutely aware
Of what is Important.
You do not jump at shadows, like children;
It is surprisingly easy to move around.
The voice of your actual self
Speaks very close.

I WAS A POET AND I DIDN'T EVEN REALIZE IT

Someone decided to give the crab back its legs
And tear down the net on the tennis court
Because life was messy
And also mainly because rhyme has power:
A pattern of soundalike grunts
That suggest
truth.

small t truth, small r rhyme.
We don't capitalize dead gods.

So the wind rises
And so does the river
And you climb up onto the roof
And cling to nothing
And wait for no-one
And you feel a little more sane
But a lot less safe.

And very few people understand what the fuck you're screaming about
Even as they go under.

RECENT STUDIES SHOW

The Word IF,
when held up to the light,
studied under a microscope,
rubbed away with nervous hands,
dissected by academics,
bathed in righteous tears,
thrown against a wall in frustration,
smashed into your lover's face,
or ripped apart with bare hands
like a child looking for a prize,
will always adapt to its surroundings
and reveal the word
NO.

When plugged into any equation,
it will always reduce itself
to one divided by one times one.
Rendering it meaningless.

In a bar, or a prison,
it is a bad joke
that can get you killed.

But The Word IF
has proven to have some uses in
driving a nail,
turning a screw,
mixing mortar,
propping open a door,
rewiring a habit,
scraping old paint off of an insult,
balancing a desire,
or acting as a fulcrum
to move just about
anything.

ODE TO BRANGELINA
from a NOLA native

O! golden coupling,
god and goddess of modern screen,
envy of untold millions,
how strange is it to spy you bi-cycling at dawn,
with your children of many lands,
barely pausing to gently admonish a lone paparazzo,
and cast my mind back
to a night I visited that selfsame spot,
and, hurrying my carriage curbward,
did lean out above this now-holy ground
and vomit from drink.

One Hundred Bad Drawings: Page One.

PLEASE SEND MONEY

Mother Earth and Father God
Created us from soul and sod.
Spared the child, and spoiled the rod.
Imparted us with knowledge.

Created brothers everywhere.
From field to stream, from sea to air,
They work the family business there.
'Cause they're not going to college.

Not us! We always like to roam.
We'll get a new place of our own.
To make our mark like men, alone,
And place no one above us.

And once we're studying abroad,
They'll be surprised and slightly awed,
Our graduation speech applaud.
Because they truly love us.

Then when a home is finally found,
The time will come to settle down.
Intergalactically across town.
But we'll be sure and visit.

We love our folks, don't get us wrong.
We celebrate them in this song.
But you can't live at home too long.
That's not evolution, is it?