ON

like a butterfly
emerging from a cocoon

with a really bad tequilla hang-over

i will begin again

road colon

there are times
when words just aren't enough

at those times

I strap small flightless birds
to the tops of remote control cars

and draw my issues out
in random arcs

of kiwi slalom

re-mixed metaphor

"cntrl + z" doesn't help

when the microwave beeps

and you can't find your hampster

logic

miss piggy had genital warts

you are here

the duck never sleeps

he lurks at the dull edge of vision...

at the soft borders of night

he watches

tapping one webbed foot in time to the soft strains
of distant bagpipes

sipping mango-tinis

and watching

know me... fear my fish-ness

the felt guru travels

the stuffed fish, alone, casts one plastic eye about
seeking an opportunity to spread chaos

but it's ok, 'cuz he looks cool
in his red hat

way to be, stuffed fish
way to be, little fuzzy lord of chaos

i'm not sorry

if a tree falls in the forest,
and the only one there to hear it,
is the pregnant, wheel-chair bound nun it landed on...

does it still get the points?