Archive for November 24th, 2011
A smelly-looking geezer,
blaring a game of survival,
with Blue Tooth,
Hyundai hazard lights,
doing a discotheque flame-out,
his hands chopping,
carving into invisible heads,
with mouth, opening and shutting,
making gigantic geometric shapes.
Down goes window,
out goes cigarette,
what a big man he is!
The raccoon is at the bottom of the red ocean,
lying flat, lying dead on Highway Seven.
Today he lay down for me.
Cranky, fishy, strip bars swing by violently.
The raccoon sat up on two legs
in the back right seat,
and I winked at him,
but all the other drivers flattened him.
I looked anxiously for a stop light,
a resting spot.