Write-off

No matter how quickly 
They might have been

Executed, poems should 
Always be read out loud

Slowly—one never knows how 
Much breath has been

Wasted already. 

That Exquisite Clearing House, The Mind of 'Murica

Where you come out 
Of a forest full 

Of burning mind- 
Blowing questions only 

To find out 
You can’t see any 

Reason to ask for more. 

Jumping to Conclusions

Virtuoso, do not be taken in— 
This seemingly boundless 
Universe we were born into 
Was made to carry us only 
Piecemeal as far as the last step we take. 
So do yourself a favor, will you? 
Think hard for all of us 
Before you chance to leap. 

Why the Squint-eyed Kid Thinks WCW Wore Corrective Lenses

Wasn’t he the one who said that 
Fuzzy No ideas but in things? 
I guess that’s what makes me 
Think there’s something 
Clearly going on round 
The left lens of my specs. 

So what do I see when 
I take them off for a closer look? 
Two stuck red bugs making 
A fucking spectacle of themselves. 
Man, what a relief! 
All this time I thought 

I was merely seeing things. 

Love It or Leave It

The capital 
Argument recognizing de facto 
Climate change still holds 
No water in the “proper” channels— 

Thus any H2O wanting to pass 
Off as bottled effluent on its way 
Towards overflowing affluence 
Has to make like a zillion trees 

And piss off.