Nothing To See Here

First you were my baby
then an odd cuddly squirrel
then my wife, trailing behind
and now a busted colostomy bag

There are shadowy folks watching
at the weeded fringes of this parking lot
the smell of pepper beef and broccoli
descending like eager spores

Take my shit and shove it
or bury it, there’s nothing else to do
and nowhere else to hide

I’m fuming pissed because my intestines
drag across the pavement and leave a trail

somebody fix me
I scream to the shady crowd
who back away and melt into bushes
somebody heal me

why would a squirrel
take the time for my embrace?
why am I not afraid
for the first time ever?

I think that home is very, very far away
and I can’t sit here under the weight of eggrolls
and die without knowing what exactly
is nestled in my arms



Filed under poetry, published work

2 responses to “Nothing To See Here

  1. Wow. Love this one. The last two stanzas are the best poetry I’ve read in weeks.

    I appreciate your patience on our project. I bit off more than I can chew. I have a guest editor editing the weblog at least another month so I can catch up. Expect a flurry of projects to come out via Calliope over the next few weeks.

  2. It’s cool, man. I’m very patient and appreciative of all that you’ve done. I actually have been working with another editor and will have a chap out in a couple of weeks, stuff written in the past couple of months.

    But take your time. I’m still trying to get the cover art taken care of. Can’t seem to find anything satisfactory as of yet.

    BTW- In the hospital now. Surgery tommorow.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )


Connecting to %s