BRUTAL FRUITLOOP

BRUTAL FRUITLOOP

not here to
argue with you

having distinguished yourself
as the very personification
of poetry

that institutional medallion
blazing on your
chest like a second Sun

so take and digest that
with your kiddies’
fluorescent cereal

being in the exact spot
your heart
should be

and that is where I
shall leave matters

so much of what I might
have said,
wanted to say, in need of being

presented for sacrifice
to the great
god ellipsis (or should
that, O Sun deity)
be the
god eclipsis?

got my lines tangled, my
words in a bind seemingly tongue-

tied but arms free to pull
and notch and
loose a Parthian shot

dissing your models and icons
and heroes of the worked
word like Campbell and

Livingstone as a unhappy pair
of dead beat wusses