Your core: Galactic activity. Blood to blog about. How
about a noncommittal cataclysm on 122112? Sound good?
A cuckoo skill, absorbed in experiments of out-of-sight seeing.
Lion heat, ticket-stub’d. A boom shakka lakka spirit beacon—
Waiting for my tentmates to wake, wondering why I thought
packing Kathleen Sheeder Bonanno’s
Slamming Open the Doorto
Bonnaroo was a good idea, I overheard a Scott Medosis go
to a Scott B. Davis, “Got anything crispy to listen to?”
Vivid bridge, flower skull, lion bid. They’re giving a polygraph
to the hieroglyphs today—
Brahkuna matata?
All on a fresh head,
Scottie B. goes, “It looks like you’ve got poison ivy in your eyes.”
And then about a bazillion-
piece puzzle of the Milky Way
became a fan of realizing that even thinking about applying
for a job at the apocalypse
is
that which wrecks the rocket ship.

Originally published in Didi Menendez's
Oranges & Sardines, and then in the
Apocalypse Anthology (Flying Guillotine Press, 2010).