6 Hours of Hiding

Folder: 
Poems 2005

Jezebels eyes slip shut.

Just another Amish drive by shooting

spoiling the question with an answer.

Flip-phone secrets,
electronic love songs,
boredom is but a curable disease, right?

Passing through the invisible bricks of a solid wall
clothed in nudity --
systematically random,
never to be duplicated though tried.

     A bad memory is a blessing.

Barbaric games of lunchmeat Frisbee are overshadowed by

mail-order boy-toys,

Kazoo celebrations for the girl with the chestnut curls.

Viking helmets and Hawaiian lays inhibit
6 hours of hiding.

We are technological advances,
in the wrong direction.

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