by Marcel Aime Duclos
Yell all you want.
I will not kiss a xenopus
to turn you into a princess
parading in a zoo.
Tomorrow, I will visit you,
sing beneath your window.
Do not expect to see me on a twitter feed.
I prefer to dance in the full blast of the sun.
Quite unique of you to show up dressed in red,
splash a quick appearance in my neighborhood.
I own my karma.
I drive a panel truck, a mad man left standing
after jumping through the horns of a dilemma
in the feedlot onto grass.
after a second birth, I envelop,
in the calm beyond my understanding,
So natural here at the meat packing plant.
I thought you would want to know.
I am being sent packing. You know the deal.
I failed the test.
I can't shut my mouth when entrails reveal our lot.