buy this phone
eat this burrito
drive down the one-way lane
to a town that sells cell service
and all the crappers one can imagine
from here to the horizon
but just don’t get caught in the rain
and maybe stop referencing quotes
from that dumb matrix movie
eat words made from the trees
never planted in the backyard
where dogs run laps
as the moon howls an iridescent message
scrawled across the sky
and made to make out like it means something
when it means nothing
poetry sounds better when you have the voice for it,
though sadly, i do not have the voice for it,
perhaps i can ask an ai program to harness
the voice of pablo neruda from the dead
and his ghost can read all of my poetry
to make it sound much better
than it is
Fred Aiken Writing 