on this peaceful october nite in smoky bay
the local populations sense of security is wacked
as the nation teeters on the verge of bankruptcy i finally feel
in tune with the economy as i have always been
on the verge of bankruptcy that is financially speaking
my spirit my lust for life remains strong oblivious
to the unreliable foibles of man made games
so called security never meant anything to me
being totally aware of the impermanence of everything
and the fact that anything can happen anytime
the price of a sandwich has gone up
having taken nothing for granted from day one
i can live with it or move closer to a reasonably priced meal
in tangeir, warez, marbella, louisville, kenosha or katmandu
i never bought into the international american dream
i still smell the buffalo carcass rot shot and killed
for no better reason than to cut off the plains
indians food supply
another form of genocide played out again and again
at different points in time in various forms
i beleive in divine retribution and the fact
that we bake our cakes and eat them too
no exceptions... i have eaten my own burnt pastry
more than once and it inspired me to be a better baker
© Michael
Dean Odin Pollock
****
Pretty Poem
i know i know
once in awhile
i should write a pretty poem
about spring lily pads n frogs
nothing about economy gone hog wild
or crazy weather smackin the land
after all i am in reykjavik
not ethiopia
or bagdad
who am i to complain
i am well dressed
computer working well
belly full of chicken wings
why should i complain
isnt that a luxury of the desperate
hypersensitive aware.....
anxiety about tyranasaurus rex or the atom bomb
my gawd i can take a xanax or two
why should i be uptight
break the balls
another miller draft
obama wins or what?
the president dies and we have a airhead rep?
or do i have to burn the fuckin place down?
you know half yr customers came to see me
...what will the idiot do next?
i refuse to fight another alley brawl for a salami sandwich
you will have to seek entertainment elsewhere
i am a proffesional now
the price has gone up
the stakes are higher
i lost my drivers license
you will have to hire a showfur
if you want me
otherwise
i will be walkin to the local gas station
pickin up a six pack and a pack of cigs
and writing poems like this
that you will never read
but
will brag about...
the published idiot that used to inhabit yr bar
that is
if yr still in business.
© Michael
Dean Odin Pollock
****
Cheese on the Trap, (Take II)
sometimes being caged with a neurotic
will bring out the stinger in me like a scorpion
pushed from the shade from under a cool stone
i strike by instinct devoid of high flown philosophies
self help books magnificent biographies of world famed peace makers
just do not register any more than a brass button in a adding machine
sometimes age gives me the edge before i let the uppercut fly i pause
mid second and think what is in the big picture the long range consequence
of this abrupt eruption and suddenly i see that i am just a piece of bait
on the trap of homo sapien stupidity so i back off and make another choice
that does not entail being a sucker in a losing game of cat and mouse
morality
the door is right there the night is young i can go nowhere in particular
after all
going somewhere...thats just cornball stuff...ya just go man... Go!
© Michael
Dean Odin Pollock
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