Wednesday, May 27, 2009

We'll Be Right Back

I've been discussing the humor and/or hipness (and/or lack thereof) of various talk-show hosts, so when Poetic Asides offered the Wednesday prompt "look beneath the surface," this is what emerged.

Late Show

Before the garbage trucks break the dawn,
before the gangbangers’ boldest feints,
I face you. I have gathered for days, and all of it
is headed straight for your straight faces.
Sometimes I fling it and the worst bits
bounce back: the mud from the bootsoles,
the stink of the swollen bags. But I’m here,
I’m decorated, because most of the time
you eat it: jaws flapping, eyes pressed shut
by the muscles that force open your mouth
and throat. Choking with it. If it all goes down,
when I retreat, the captain, behind the blue drape,
will smack my shoulder and bellow proudly,
You killed.

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