LAST MOON

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some poor kid with jock itch eating breadsticks
a chest pain the same as that other time
no cash to catch a doctor here
along the coast of capitalism
a dream for sale
the going price
had to come down
the book cover judges were frowning
and in a fowl mood
deejays ran out of samples
police ran out of crack and heads to crack
no strength left for walnuts

the plane taxing out to the
main runway
Leslie Nelson and his while hair
passengers trapped on a bus up there
not as fun as the trampoline park

if you pretend you’re sitting in
the living room of a home
in the 1950s/
well—think of us well
I’m sure you’ll think of something
swell, head swelling heat swelter
proliferate
my life’s work
a straw and its shed snake skin
a straw and its drink
a drink and its sucker
a heat seeking PENCIL
someone you already know
let’s see then
how the introduction goes
friend or foe
room for you in the
spare bedroom
so here’s an excerpt from
the long lost journal of this
unfortunate kid
he wound up
out there
across that haunted divide
you lose enough things till it’s finally
the roof and then you’re outside
full time
the pages wound up writing
themselves
now that he’s older full of bile
for the landscape
the sacred got itself lost
along the way
trust no one
became a part of his DNA
changed his name
to Dan The Negotiator
but it did nothing
for his reputation all
the same

short shallow steps
boiling puddles
save the date

make a bitter face
slice the cake
rake to the blunderer
on/off wagons and their
wagoneers
slag the flag a motivational nag
skin sags and onion rags
editor hags
young and fake—alone
you’ll see the real thing soon
so soon it’s too soon
you’ll wonder if
this is
your
last moon

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