gift cards

the New Age section of the Barnes & Noble
is the most discombobulated.
(breached lucidity)

oh, good – you bought me “On Bullshit”
by Harry B. Frankfurt. I’m so relieved;
now the philosopher can recline.
(co-morbidity)

I have Kohl’s cash.
How many Politically Exposed Persons
can I buy? The fabric is impure;
look at these threadbare seams.
you force the haggle. you’re getting the manager?
your white flag is corroding.

there is a whisker and a dust bunny in my shoe.
occupancy: two. they’re suffocating in the emerald mist;
only their undertaker escapes contamination. everyone,
just sit still and wait for Aesop. he has a stapler.

soliloquy by Orson Welles:
“the cruelty of the gamble,
the quintessence of the vipers,
the maelstrom of scorn and censure,
self-objurgation and Pez dispenser,
the cranes overhead in Dallas ’63 fly through
boiling atoms of generated congress
and soft leaves of peppermint,
dear friends and vermin, this has all been
so enchanting, on this, the eve of my dismemberment…”

it is an eager morning in Left Field when Gottschalk espies
the albatross and the centrifugal wamble dislodging the
candied gnomes from their motorized toadstools. slash the tires of
compunction & raise the Union Jack atop Megatron’s dome,
each step a slip out of synch with your own.