Sunday, August 12, 2012

2 Stray Doggerel Obalmanacs


Obama play on
Play on your sewn
Accordion of asthmatic pollen
Does white sand inquire wheezing
Of the distance of bats to the arbor?
Midnight is a ladder to be learned by couturiers.

Obama, why can’t I bring myself to clean my house?
Why does the iced coffee taste like 6-shooter dreams?
Like extracting liquid oxygen from a hollowed cantaloupe
The number of powwows grows larger
Eating the threnody out of a dissected belly—
I am the morning’s sharded synecdoche of burnt sugar.
I am the King of Beta club.

Let yr 5’ O’Clock shadow grow into a facticity.
I lullaby labia into a dumbwaiter.
Hollow Hallelujah!

Gaunt porticos fuck folding the palimpsest of fans.
Chlorophyll wanes, shirred shriven in origin.
The satin simile is a still life
Coiffed with motion.


Obama you are a feat of adorability.
Not Sleeping well is a feat of adorability.
Arguably one could program the brain to fight cancer
Or not have a gag reflex.
Being Proud is a feat of adorability.
Going on a honeymoon is a feat of adorability.
Son of a bitch.
It was a long time ago.
My goodness what a robust young lady you are.
Well goodness gracious it is good 2b outdoors.

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