October Poem 27: That Old Narrative Jive

Waiting sharp and shiny on the forked end.

To stop thinking to the next good line. The

Darkness of the trek to your car was made

Even blacker by the blinding of the

Field lights through the choke of leaves in the trees.

Take off your God goggles and succumb to

The wispy lip of Mister Five O’clock’s

Geedunk van stalking neighborhood streets in

Search of unsuspecting children mostly

Reclaimed by a belief in a Christian life.

To understand a text. To believe that

You know the world. To understand that a

Cigar is just a cigar except when

It doesn’t jive well with your narrative.




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