Bowl of Light - The Argotist Online

Hubble repairs notwithstanding
When all you eat is fried fast food and all you drink is beer
what chance your children Across the street, over the nation every
where there is a Memorial Day there are drunken rednecks setting
their faces on fire by accident but really to what point when the fires
they raise celebrate nothing but an accident of choice, here in the land
/// if only my brother had lived a bit longer he might have known true
surprise like a live television broadcast for a non-existent award, which of
course he was the recipient, you can't have known and not know - never start a line with "of," I
think that's the second rule of poetry, only second to the first which is never tell anyone what
your writing means, because then that's all it is
/// I may have said that before, but I'm a bit bitter and unsure of the usual
sureties tonight; there are more rules but I may have forgotten them, I can't remember right now
or ever
/// maybe you'd rather read lines describing a long dead poet and his/her gorgeous
burial/offering/appeasement/easement into the afterlife, but really that is all that I am offering
anyway, what do you think this is a pyramid scheme No, Jacques Lalande was the painter, not
the artichoke juicer and no, really I was born when peanuts ruled the day and the last time I saw
a space
mission was when I wanted to be aboard
to late for that now, you think, well I wouldn't be so sure.
There's space, and then there's Space
mine, I own. Hubble repairs notwithstanding.