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Archive for June 2nd, 2011

Being a Monkey in a Cave

Work is fine if I’m admired. Tell me I’m superb.
But really, I plop deeply down,
tan military
tank in car-
ribean
wa-
ter.
And when
there, I can
only keep digging
deeper. It gets darker. I hate
work and the bright realization of green worthlessness.
Sickly. It gets heavier. I hate
being a monkey
in a cave.
And when
wa-
ter,
turquoise-
red covers
my military
tank sinks, plopping me in casket.
Work is fine if I’m admired. Tell me I’m superb.

 

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2 Comments

My Day in Six Words – XV

Frowns,

dog paddling,

seeking forbidden air.

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4 Comments

Opus 57

Born
down,
roughed up.
Enchanting
stories of music
penetrating deepest cracks of
holes in self made from Beethoven’s most ugly temper
simmering in baby blue bed.
Mother tears apart
confidence.
Drowning.
Red
seas.

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2 Comments

How Do I Do This?

I need to tell the boss
I’m quitting.

So instead, I email my wife
to seek her superlative advice.
I ask, “Should I do it
at the end of the day?”
She says, “You better
do it now,
in case she leaves early for the day,”
which she’s never done.
(My boss, that is, has never left early.)

So, I notice
my to-go coffee cup
still has a bar code
sticker. It is damned
important that I remove it.
Now, not later.

So, I take some deep breaths
and sip the coffee
to get ready,
which seems
like it might take twelve hours
or So.

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11 Comments

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