Thursday, March 19, 2009

poet laureate of the lavatory

my halo
has slipped
down over
my skull
& down
around
my neck
& tightened
itself

cold & biting
like a choker
collar for
a dog

like a cordless
noose

just a
useless
pinching circle

i think of this
as i blow smoke
rings
from the
toilet bowl

then realize
things could
be
worse

i could be
a
Zero

one day
death will
come

& make me
jump through
its hoop

into the
void
on the other
side

that old
fucking
trick
for even
the not so
old dogs

i exhale
a bouquet
of smoke
this time

it blooms
even more
in the air

i scrape the
halo up
over my
nose

until
it's
above
my scalp
again

& i hit the handle
flushing
death down
the hole

poet laureate
of
the
lavatory

for now
This blog is updated irregularly and has nothing to do with the poet's output. The poet is actually disturbingly prolific. He writes about 5 poems per day. The pages are everywhere, even stacked in the bathtub.