1,297 Readings

“You do not walk around Las Vegas with a picture in your pocket of a man who went bankrupt.”

There is a slab, unaware of what nerve gas
does, unstricken by what disappears
in the unequipped evening, and freakishly
easy to maintain.
There are two new drawings
on the slab: one is instructive,
instructing people how to see things,
like the proper way to behave
in crowds, and the other
depicts what’s less careful
than darkness, you know.
There’s not much talk of ideology
it seems. There’s nothing that indicates
what’s more beautiful than the crooked
or what’s slightly slanted off for a decade
too far.
Written on the underside of the slab
is my new freakish ideology:
When we wake up in the middle of any given
night, it’s only to recall there’s a chance
the neatest way, but not
the only way, we’ll ever haul off
some of the farmers
the Vikings once buried on their way through
Scandinavia, is by forcing all that matters
to our unkind nature
back in.
Posted 12/15/10
Comments (0)