SENSES
DESPERADO WHY DON’T YOU COME TO YOUR SENSES
The waiter at Frank’s Red Hot says: You should go to Mexico!
As though I have desperado eyes +not blue agave induced dark
circles +menopausal discolourations But these never did stop
an old poet from hiring a $350/hr call girl named Izzy +driving
down to the Painted Desert in a KIA SOUL
With Soul etched all over the back seats protesting too much
that somewhere through the hard passage my soul has survived
And waits puppy-like at the door pissing itself with joy each time I
arrive from a day of bad retail interviews Just hired to sell $4,000
jeans by a design collective from Düsseldorf with the slogan: Drink Me
And Live Forever Dadaists everywhere are rolling in graves
And a weekend of carpet cleaners from Alexanians who left me
with regrets for not jumping into their truck Carlos: Ma’am we
can’t clean carpets worth shit but we can take you as far as the
Pecos +put you on a tequila drip
This week they discovered an Earth like planet tantalizingly close
enough to study It circles the star Proxima Centauri They named
it Promima b (!) Again Dadaists everywhere are rolling It is stuck
in eternal night with huge temperature extremes +bathed in radiation
100 x stronger than on Earth
Stephen Hawking + a Russian billionaire will send a computer sized chip
spaceship there in 2-3 decades Won’t that be thrilling for the nocturnal
+radiated Proximers to have the Sapient Ape arrive on their doorstep!
Why in twenty or thirty years the Gods will have forgiven us + our child
selves will have returned from exile in droves In droves Jerry
__
Everything lives on waiting only to be wanted back badly enough
Would I put on my coat and return to the kitchen where my mother
and father sit waiting, dinner keeping warm on the stove?
(Tracey K. Smith Life On Mars Pulitzer Prize winner 2011)
Fall 2016
songanddancegirl 