IV—Somebody To Love

Because I don’t watch
TV, all women [except
skin­ny ones]
become more inter­est­ing.
Peo­ple ask: “How do
you keep up with
the news?” and I say
“She could use anoth­er
10 pounds.”

At the creek I found
the old­er boys’
stash of beer.
Cans sailed over rocks
like drunk­en philoso­phers,
beards float­ing on the water.
Induc­tion and alco­hol
spilled from their mouths
while I made craw­fish
fight.

I’ve always want­ed
some­body to love
me.
   Some­body
I’ve always want­ed
to love.
   me.

I should have been
a small appli­ance
repair­man. I should have
tak­en more drugs.
I would have
got­ten high and
talked to bro­ken toast­ers
say­ing “Does it
hurt
when I do
this?”

5 thoughts on “IV—Somebody To Love”

  1. i can see that your involve­ment in that grow­ing poet­ry com­mu­ni­ty has had a def­i­nite influ­ence on your writ­ing.

    there are some nice sur­pris­es here, some great turns and shifts.

    email me… we’ll talk!

  2. Thanks, man. I’m usu­al­ly pret­ty pleased at how con­nec­tions cob­bled togeth­er from rel­a­tive­ly unre­lat­ed thoughts res­onate.

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