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January 6, 2004

Ode to a Cool Sister

Tags: Poems — 9:28 am Comments (0)

Ode to a Cool Sister

Cezanne and his workshop,
two sunny eggs pierced with a fork,
at Pugsleys and “there” killer blueberry muffins
served in a red basket with a large pat of butter.

Across the country and back three many times
I knew I shouldn’t have had that pork cutlet
and that cheddar cheese ice cream with corn bits.

An educated fool with money on my mind.
It didn’t work out with me an your mom.
Bonjour tous le monde, bonjour. Wait,
I don’t speak French. Or do I.
To the East Fabrice. To the tire swings we’ll meet.

Those coupons are expired. Fuck, shit,
why don’t you go read a book. And while “your”
at it, get me some pudding. And a pair of Doc Martens
with some clotted cream. Is it soft? Peut-�tre.

Victoria Falls, Turkey, Israel, Thailand,
well I’ve been to South Carolina, Myrtle Beach
Damn it, I need to rest. Can you wait?
I’m scared. There are no handrails at the steps
of Rome. Suck it up ‘ol man. So how many toes
do you have?

Some birds aren’t meant to be caged while some birds
vanish like a fart in the wind. Get busy living. Wish
I could come with you. You’re only 34. I think.



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