Hey cretins, here's that damn poetry you all seem to love so much. Gosh, where does it spring forth, me eternal tude? No one can say. But watching Pee Wee on TV is as fine as going la dee dee for free. Also, this poem is one of two I wrote on the 4th of July! Happy birthday, America, eat a whole watermelon, why don't you, you fat pig? Okay, to read the other poem, go to: austinnewblog.blogspot.com. Sayonara!
birthday: me
my birthday is coming down
a rusted road,
biting dogs and screaming
numbers,
mad with power and
divine, like
a spiked cog trashing
its own
habitat just to be
cool.
happy birthday, to me, from me,
in a glorious river,
or drunk on some bench in Austin,
kicking it away
like
old newspapers.
I’m going to be so wise this year,
bold and hot, gusty,
a meadow,
a fire hydrant.
let me, oh birthday, remember
myself in grandeur. gift me
a mirror and I’ll
shave my face to celebrate.
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