In the Endless Backyard, Part 5
A goat race. Your brother hanging onto
the pocket of your pink shorts. World's
Largest Horse. Endless shrieking, coming
near but never arriving. World's smallest
dog. Smeared glass boxes, cracked, with
bones inside. The hat worn by Jesse James.
Shake the hand of the man made of rubber.
Two liter cup of orange soda and all
the popcorn you can eat. A midget who
won't look at you sitting at a target.
A horse fly shining in your brother's hair.
A truckfull of fathers smoking. A man
swearing as he tears off the head
of a stuffed zebra. Your heel in a puddle
of beer and piss in the elephant tent. A tiny
elephant with a half-closed eye. The tickle
of a trunk, slow on your palm. Bet on number
9, the loudspeaker says, lucky number 9.
4 comments:
Oh I love this. Every word.
xoxo
lucky number 9. good stuffs.
Thank you, Radishy and Billy. This was a "supposed to be working very hard on something else but instead writing a poem" poem.
is all good. you do what u feel.
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