Mount Capon Comes to Bozo


A water wagon rides into town

nobody from the waist down some

body’s moved to the Mirage Club

captivity underscores the strangeness

of this life we’ll believe like chickadees

almost any seed and tanked up on Pike’s

Magnolia Shriveler hung like a horse

of a different color a capella pinto

let the shits fall where they may

take Webster random in any one of

every derivation yes Dad

your son’s an effete flaphead

and hedge hiccup emeritus

I’m beginning to feel like Machiavelli

edge the pond Archie

forget about that cockamamie Loch Lomond

cocktails made of winces

you have a nosegay for a heart

a mind scuttled by rum

no echo chamber

to sound surrender

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Further Reading

 October 29

The Factory by Hiroko Oyamada, translated by David Boyd. New Directions, 119 pages. It’s not quite clear if the. . .

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