by Shawn Misener
First you were my baby
then an odd cuddly squirrel
then my wife, trailing behind
and now a busted colostomy bag
There are shadowy folks watching
at the weeded fringes of this parking lot
the smell of pepper beef and broccoli
descending like eager spores
Take my shit and shove it
or bury it, there's nothing else to do
and nowhere else to hide
I'm fuming pissed because my intestines
drag across the pavement and leave a trail
somebody fix me
I scream to the shady crowd
who back away and melt into bushes
somebody heal me
why would a squirrel
take the time for my embrace?
why am I not afraid
for the first time ever?
I think that home is very, very far away
and I can't sit here under the weight of eggrolls
and die without knowing what exactly
is nestled in my arms
April 26, 2010
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