Sunday, November 2, 2014

under your feet

i ain’t no spider
laying in a grave
waiting for the cancer
to come and clear my plate

i ain’t no liar
all filled up with gold
trying out all my answer
on anyone who will listen

i ain’t no real chemist
i just make stuff that tastes great
and puts the pants on the monkey
when no one else will

i ain’t no harlequin romance novel
i'm a real nancy drew cryer
all the time
ask my girlfriend. she’ll tell you it’s true

i ain’t no back alley deal
that you made with the italian
that didn’t turn out as badly, i guess
as it could have

i ain’t no mouse in your mouth
while you try to say your name 
to the police officer
standing beside your car

i ain’t the dish filled with bacon
ready to be enjoyed
your heart in a glass
by the stove

i am the face of the grey horizon
the receding hairline of the city
breaking under the weight of heaven

open your eyes
open your eyes

open your eyes


Christina said...

Peek a boo...

Norma said...

You are who you say you are only to yourself, if you're lucky. To everyone else, you are a fragment of the whole, broken to pieces in their mouths and spit out until you look like you but act like them.

WaterGirlFlorida said...

That's because you are Real...

heather g said...

WHAT deal with the Italian? What did that mofo do? Lol

bobbie myatt said...

Nice---the mouse is great. Reminds me of what i find myself saying all the time. Whaddaya got a mouse in your pocket whos this WE?

Curtis said...

Nice. Very nice poetry.