Waiting, Pt. 2

artwork by Terence Lundy

Waiting, Pt. 2

...it is the prominent moment that counts in the record book, but all those other moments had families, too...they felt things, did things, some ordinary, some strange, some defy all explanation...no one wants to have t explain this stuff that happens, they want it to be self explanatory, they want it t sell, sell, sell...sold...gone on too far on a cool breeze blown at a cold time when the latent prints were left behind in the form of icicle daggers through the heart, nothing left for the crime channel or the court tv or the kardashian shopping network or even the cooking channels to stew up into some blend of cathartic bonanza happy cowboy ending on the rootin' tootin' ponderosa where the lil' doggies are not afraid of the hoss that walks backwards toward them...I told the maitre' dee at the airport deli to make me a reuben w/ corned beef n mustard n he told me he did not like poetry which I dug to mean he didn't like peoms w/ the poets in them, which I dug wild (the whole "I" always being about me is a drag to read, everypoet being an "I" already, its 2 much sometimes, don't u agree?), cuz I don't want to be here I would rather be there watching the hitch up happen in the common man's happenstance, altho the cold is still more common than anything (could you close that window, please) and don't, under any circumstances, type BOMB in this moment as the taxi down the runaway has been postponed because of a pre-existing condition so as to not jeopardize all the clever things that they can do with social security now that there is an election going on they can erase the last remnants of slavery, but don't tell those guys over there cuz they don't seem like they would understand and that might make things worse for the rest of them, knowaddimean? nudge/nudge wink/wink....this is where the astertrix would stop you and give you some supplemental information bout how low we can go in this dick chopping, bushwhacking contest that has become the digression of the times while wild billionaires run around with the idea that there is plenty more where that came from, whatever that was, & don't worry too much because you are gonna bring the ratings down & we might lose the asian subtitles that are necessary to keep investment potential up as well as trade agreements agreeable...why shouldn't a third of the planet own everything, just so there would be a new sheriff that knew the score...the time machine has been running overtime as the wheels of fortune turn & twist in the wind of no articular determination, so as to proliferate a new, more virile form of communication that involves human centrifuges that could produce new clear wintertime landscapes that could mean christ mast all year round for the kids (they'll love that, is the word on the street) no more happy new year's will be needed so put away all the noisemakers & quit rocking the boat so much cuz we are all in this liferaft together n it ain't gonna get easier until you all learn to go easy into the night as the blades are now readyto slice n dice all the needy peeples into neat lil' ribbons that will be tied into bows on the everyday present under the neverending tree of lifetime subscriptions to a more posterior standing in the community of what is passing for cultural stimulation these days...they are ready now, for boreding...