Thursday, July 12, 2012


I'm learning to play the organ and I'm sitting
next to our church organist and it's a funeral
and her headbanging is affecting and
though she stamps her feet like one would tousle a bear
the pedals remain unscathed and in the church organ's notes 
is a breathable cork snuffed by a yellow lip 
then released in an unclothing of yeast

I always suspect the intelligent plotting of a freak accident
today's drama: the mourners antiquating and
cup-rattling later in the anteroom and talking smack
about barber sticks and barber sidekicks
and death by razor!

today's news: the bullfrog pallbearer is a new father
and the priest's walkie-talkie computerizes his kisses stale
and the church organist is like a discrepant spoor on a trapeze
and those horrible surprises when you get tofu instead of antimatter

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