bored to a crisp

or: i was a roman soldier once

or: thy neck is an iron sinew, and thy brow brass

i recall the day i became an eagle scout

the trees were the color of onions

the löwenfrau at the zoo turned 20

i was crazy in love with savana zweibel

i wasn't as crazy about the car that hit me

on the way to the interview with the parents

of the kid killed in korea earlier that year

the way the the bumper drove into my pelvis

knocking my PRO-Keds clean off my feet into the sky

the impact was such that the spinal cord at the base

of my scull actually snapped in two and once

severed the momentum of my heavy head

tore the skin and sinew of my neck easily

disloging my head and sending it rolling into the

street where it landed at the feet of the

six year old joel peter witkin

who would later go on to become

the celebrated photographer of the 80's