I think that
tiny nib’s
a transistor.
it will not
go away.

this one’s
a totem pole

this shit is
a mitten, thumb
extended, in open
handed greet; the arm
chopped off halfway
up the bicep

auscultation
becomes
asscultation
at this
my favorite
station

schlepping down
the drain, my
ass wipe waves
like a towel
at a sports event,
a hockey game.

this one looks
like a cross.
this one
looks like a cross
between Mickey
Mouse and a key ring

ya gotta be solid
to get labelled a turd

this one’s a dugong.

diet’s been better
these days. and not so
many flu bugs. not so
many inneresting shits.

a musical stave,
an exploding, disintegrating
musical stave

this one’s just
a mudslide

this one’s already
sewage, slurry
(as above, so below),
except for one medallion
stuck to the baptismal bowl

this asswipe
a classic ghost
in all of its twists,
its dramatic turns

the letter tau
upside down
in strikes of flame

a little
candy-sized
piece
with a tail
(looks like a drowned muskrat)

it was an eel.
i looked away.
kinetic, it became
the bottom half
of a scuba diver.

so, the next time
I leap up:
these two roll
like two-inch
commandos,
one under each
side of the asswipe
from my shave.
look past the paper,
they form the letter
vau.

this one’s a smile

(oct 7/11)