antoine, if you’re read this,
then know that i felt uncomfortable with your driving this morning,
weaving in and out of traffic like a moonraker
snorting cocaine
while eating processed sugary food, like Little Debbie’s
not to say that i think this poem will make you stop your reckless driving,
but i still feel it necessary to at least let you know;
it made me uncomfortable
loosened threads being pulled through the
ring of fire; covered in kerosene
and lips that spread lies
like grape jelly bouncing off white bread
and piercing through an internal
eternal
inner sanctum
and chants keep spirits going
a debased sense of spirit; lengthened
to the edges of what’s known or knowable
vacuum-sealed and sent off to
be sold in every corner store;
before going on sale
because trite ideas always seem to be expiring
40% off
60% off
on sale now!
act now!
buy one, get one
a melody of signs and sirens beckons
don’t hesitate
the sale might just have started
but it’s sure to end soon
so don’t wait
buy
keep buying
don’t stop
you’re almost finished
keep going….!
Fred Aiken Writing 