Horizon gone blank.
Soap pond, floating.
Forty billion mutilated filters.
Haiku heaven has shortened us,
pulled us with extravagant blurbs
toward ruffled outskirts
we poach and penetrate.
O, exchequer of ecstasy,
blue dot neophyte,
Elvis of the sidewalk trash,
smoothe the hood grain.
Better mediate ascension.
Along the highway,
implant signs of doubt.
Sharp edges and spoiled soil.
The green house is extinguished,
the rocks printed over.
We must have sundried eyes.
He slapped the smile off the face
of the etiquette boy.
And batted his batting eyelashes.
His "Pardon me, sir"
was more like a slur
and always resulted in clashes.
He even learned how
executing a bow
could be used as a martial attack.
And God help you, son,
and get ready to run
if he gave you a pat on the back.
Charm school bullies
rule the halls.
Tiny brains and giant balls.
Under manners, overbearing.
"Excuse me," WHACK !
"Thanks for sharing."
In breaking the bone of the beak,
so to speak,
we’re changing the shape of a life
in a week.
Unwrapping the bandages,
please take a peek,
and if you don’t like what you see,
please don’t shriek.
O, the nose makes the face
by its size and its grace.
Many honkers in place
simply take too much space.
So, if chopping’s in need,
make a change with due speed.
It’s a simple excursion
to get a new version.
The state has assumed full control of my life,
despite all my better intentions.
They monitor me through computers, you see,
and other more subtle inventions.
The cable t.v. is looking at me,
it’s one of their obvious tricks.
Whatever I do they invariably see.
I feel somewhat like number six.
Technology’s praised as the future’s new wave.
I actually buy their devices.
The ultimate goal being total control
at totally outrageous prices.
She takes her picture once a week
in that old photo booth.
She once fell down outside of Sears
and chipped a baby tooth.
She buys her jeans and magazines
and cigarettes all there.
At CVS she buys a gel
to colorize her hair.
One time she stretched out
on a bench for a two-hour nap.
And she admits to shoplifting
an item from The Gap.
The courteous mallflower
spends every waking hour
avoiding time at home
inside that shopping dome.
And once school’s at an end,
she often tells her friend,
she’ll still be in the mob there,
’cause she’ll just get a job there.
