doing the job…

elaborate preparation

line-item assembly of chemically
inclined biota transfixed into
somnobulence & a strange stare.
it sits, scratches at the last
piece of evidence still plausibly
lookin’ enough like a beating
heart to sound off ‘Parkers’
Mood’ for the thousandth time
& generally enjoy the experience.

i could still choose to cry,
if i wanted it badly enough
& thought it might be far enough
to the wrong side of right.

lucida releases the strain of any
variety, all comers. mixed into
remnants, holed up inside specially
formed glass glorifying transition from
solid to liquid & back. muddled
leftovers on top of long lines
drawn with sand for real feeling;
or maybe just less of it
as time goes by.

by the third imagining of some
lame, unidentifiable voice asking
for details about purpose, i’m
sure that all has gone according
to plan. i don’t even pretend to
answer a knock on the front
door. faith & credit tell me
it wasn’t that important,
anyway.

———————————

authors note: ‘Parkers’ Mood’ refers to the song by Joe Henry. It’s a good song. Well, I think so.

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2 Responses to “doing the job…”

  1. I could still choose to cry if I wanted it badly enough & thought it might be far enough to the wrog side of right…

    My god how I know that!

    Brilliance as always! I’ve missed you friend!

    • Been too long & I owe you a visit to see how you’ve been writing. The last few months have been an examination of failure on my part & I need to shake the rust off my claws so I can start scratching again. I know you are a fellow Bukowski addict, so hopefully the next few poems will reward the faith in what passes at time for brilliance and at times for a generalized bad attitude with which I am often accused (quite correctly lol!)

      It rewards the faith of the moment to hear from you. I will visit back tonight. Time is of the essence & I have a poem pecking it’s way out of my flesh onto the screen. All my best,

      crb.

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