he sends himself off like a hurricane storm trooper
slipped into a granite rock manilla envelope.
a sort of
half jangled sideways walk develops out of his travel
because in Arizona
you have to walk slightly different to keep yourself amused.

Ben was never a simple man,
he enjoyed the bottle rocket fourth of july tango,
and when the sizzling heat of a thousand roman candles
singed every inch of his face on that fateful night,
he didn't mind.

it was worth the pain.


she was a cocktail waitress in her head,
but for now she has to settle for cheap dates
and lousy customers.
It is hard to make a living when you can only eat the scraps of bones
left by overweight customers.
but she doesn't mind because in her head
someday she'll amount to more than just a dollar eighty nine in tips per patron.

Louise was an interesting case,
like someone who splits open their head and goes to work
oblivious to the thirteen gallons of blood they've lost on the way.
I swear she would lose every limb if they weren't superglued back on to her body.
I've never seen a more literal case of someone falling apart while still in their prime.

But it is this first fellow that most amuses me,
because he's constantly walking, never finding a way back home.
Yet there's something about him, some darker deed
or higher hope
that draws me into his world.
I would like to ask him about it, but I fear the tidal wave of good thoughts
and pure deeds
that would wash over me if I did.

Sometimes,

other people's passions intimidate me.

08/10/2006

Posted on 08/10/2006
Copyright © 2024 Jared Fladeland