His anger looked like a Piper Cub in a downpour
off the coast of Santa Barbara
Hey it’s January the corn syrup rain is coming down in
big sticky sheets It’s true you can move along somewhere
I’m going somewhere else
A mess kit
Shortness of breath
The shakes from Folger’s coffee
The arm chairs circling like frantic helicopters
I want to get going
I’ve got to get there soon
Bejing Forbidden City
Phoenix shaking the gray ash from its crimson wings
There’s nowhere left There’s a map of North Dakota a
tree growing straight thru the map They call that a
pine tree
American food macaroni & cheese TV dinners a
pack of Marlboro light 100's a diet Pepsi
It’s hardly worth the effort
No one trusts my hangnail-ridden
fingers no one trusts my
alphabet soup
The steam’s rising off the breakers &
the plane’s going down