Wednesday, December 21, 2011


Thrown as if Fierce & Wild

You don’t have a clue, says the power drill

to the canoe hanging from the rafters.

Is life a contest everything plays

by different rules for different prizes?

You’re really worthless, aren’t you?

barks the cherry tree covered with eponymous

fruit to the wagon lying on its side.

Unfair! Wasn’t that wagon not two days ago

leading the parade, the puppy refusing

to wear her hat? Can’t you just leave me

alone? says the big picture of Marilyn

Monroe behind her nonreflective glass.

Is the universe infinity in ruckus

and wrack? The third grader loose

in dishwares, the geo-tech

weeping on the beach. Mine, mine,

says the squirrel to the transformer,

unclear on the capacities of electricity.

String of Christmas lights tangled with

extension cords, can’t you work things out?

The young couple takes a step toward the altar,

increasing the magnetic force that sends

ex-lovers whirling off into nether nebulae

but attracting mothers-in-law. In one wing,

the oxygen mask taken from the famous writer

of terza rema glee while in another

an infant arrives, loudly disappointed

to have to do everything now himself,

no longer able to breathe under water.

Will we never see our dead friends again?

A motorcycle roars on the terrible screw

of the parking structure, lava

heaves itself into the frigid strait.

-Dean Young

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