I look at life like the glass
is half full...of poison.
That’s why popcorn Aunt Jackie
is always practicing her pole dancing.
She slides up and down the metal rod
with butter slicked hands, ignoring
the cracked kinks in her back.
In eleven months she’ll slap you with a herring.
Though a turnip would be better. You always
told me that. Did you never like fishy broads?
My memories are not my own, but that of an actress portraying me.
Devour my past and you will you will confront
the fundamental fabrics of your existence.
There is a ring around my life,
and I don’t mean my ring tone-Put your Records On.
No, I have no song. But my ring will spin you right around,
encircle you, turn your world upside-down, tear
asunder your illusions and send the sanctuary
of your own ignorance crashing down around you.
It will echo in your brain like the pounding
metal of a monorail, screeching tracks barreling
out of a tunnel in tidal waves…until you drown
in the crests and troughs of sound.
And popcorn Aunt Jackie decides
to butter you up with salt instead.
An Iodine Melody.
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