None more pleased than strangers

Metropolitan boys! Food secure whatever it may be.
No duck meat a toddler got nude for cutting
neck from gristle the bill nooked on a keychain.
Jabba eats and eats and eats, grows a mustache
half-assed in the grooming of it. What new class.
Opiates are for the grandmothers wheezing,
their eyes stumbling to a grim old forehead for
poor memory. Mine are long dead of alcohol.
Whippers them, hands the size of army skillets.
What’s new is impressive! Circuits and ancient
noddings and closings of clever eyes them,
that blink at how the cavewomen were common.
Give time to anything or anything to time
and marvel at how young it is to newer eyes.


~ by Jeremy on June 2, 2012.

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