I'M Stupid
I'm a shopping cart,
a free form squeaker of the
truth.
I'm a black top parking lot
on the surface of a dream.
I'm a thin veneer cross the
chest of drawers that hides
your dirty magazines.
I'm the crust on summer's dusk.
The ring around the collar grit.
The decay of cowboy comics;
A 10 cent glider's path.
The harbinger of new math.
A washing machine's tumble.
The gray skies ominous rumble.
A bad haircut on spring break.
The Vietnam war,
the Superbowl,
The lounge singer in the
businessman's maw.
I'm stupid,
a friggin mess,
farting and tap dancing the
Gettysburg address.
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