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Bottles of Everything
by Joseph Goosey
Listen,
while I'm stuck here in this North Georgia Marriot Fairfield Suites,
I've got a few things;
First off,
I recognize love poems
don't work
but a man HAS to write and this isn't a poem.
Like Milton's penis,
things are going here and I
do have intentions for the future.
I've got coats I wish to purchase to
make you say
"Oooh a new coat"
and I promise all the chips I've ever
accumulated
that one day there's gonna be bottles of everything.
One day the snow won't matter
and our house will make itself out of fine fine
wood.
A human being does not need to own a doctorate
in African American
History or business
administration
to know
that a vicious falcon that appears to be an owl
snatching you up and
dropping you in a hospital for the sickly
and disenfranchised will really
make you want to
hike a mountain with the person you adore
most.
Anybody who takes
the time and determination
to
pick the zits from the underside of my
neck
is
12 universes
more impressive than some bitch
with sunglasses who lives on a hot day.
This is wordy and I
am bat shit in the toilet
but what is a person
to do?
Once
there was a 78 year old man and when
he learned that his 88 year old
wife couldn't come home for dinner
he changed the subject
with some water
in his
eye.
What I mean is that everybody around
is in dire
need. |
