Friday, January 06, 2006

I

I brought your olives and cheese but forgot your marijuana.
I'm sorry I called the Steely Dan on your turntable "Weird."
I stole your rolled golds and your calvados.
I trundled everything under your stoop for later.

You only told me why you called when I was leaving.
But these Thanksgiving cheese balls won't roll THEMSELVES in nuts!
Plus your "friend," if he started at noon, must be tight as my belt.
I wish he had a belt too; everyone can see his ass.

Waking him up would only sour matters.
But the hours are pattering away quickly now.
I'm the last one here with complete sentences.
I'm the only one left who still talks to his brain.

2 Comments:

Blogger JCSH said...

how do these strike you for rules

each line must be a declarative sentence

between 1-15 syllables in length

and a say thirty line limit *

6:34 AM  
Anonymous Anonymous said...

You remembered my olives and cheese
but without my marijuana
the swampus and other post-historic beings
were ordinary as the skip in “Bodhisattva”
Can you show me—
Can you show me—
Can you show me—
Can you show me—
the shine of your Japan.

(Keep the calvados
I ignored the rules of your poem.)

1:22 PM  

Post a Comment

<< Home