Ranch Poem – “Rattled Straight”

9/27/2007

“Rattled Straight”

as dusk breaks,
a woman in
her car
screams:
“The world is
a cruel,cruel place!”
and while the
pink clouds
dance across
the disappating
blue sea sky,
I can only
feel irritated
at her
dramatic
realization
of this downward
spiral.

my eyes
are getting longer
and as
I’m getting older
constantly,
I wish
I knew
which ones
are
with me,
and which have
folded.

and I often lay lazily
wondering of
this future
of mine.
will I change
mistakenly,
for some idea?

a stench so
strong fills
Brooklyn tonight
and its not
the industry
or lack of
sanitation,
no,
that is the
aroma of
a young
revolutionary,
submerged
up to his ears
in a pool of
rum
and an
imported
cloud of
cigar soot.

I need nothing,
no one, no where,
no more
of this everyday
non-sense!

I’ll roll around
til I’m
rattled
straight.
until I’m
wide open
and the
thought of
the purse
of the lips
of the sexiest
female excites
my every
last synapse
in a sudden
sobering
blast of
fulfillment.

and all the
sagging faces
will gobble
up every
piece of
fucking
non-sensical genius,
to vomit the
remains into
a conventional
receptacle.

brazen and rash,
something propelled
the post-man
to burn his
mail-filled
ice-cream truck,
three days before
Christmas.
what brought
upon such
instinct?
nothing
except a
realization
that anything
destroyed that
easily is
revered and
loved for
all the
never-lasting
reasons.

a lot of good
we did.
what have we
got to show for
our hours of
dreaming and
bullet dodging
other than
aΒ searing
regret that
we didn’t
throw the
first punch
or the last?
that we cursed
and quoted Ginsburg,
broke down on the
heart of Highway 61.
and forget how
alive we were
until our fists
pounded out rhythms
across
our bony cage.

RwmG

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