(after the novel)
I don’t care about fashion
I just try to keep warm
I’ve heard all about passion
Sounds like a great big storm
I stay out of the freeway
No I don’t venture there
Oh, yes, I once saw a truck swerve
Around an old wheelchair
Why don’t you just try to disprove
those white noise blues?
Some people whimper
Some people bang
Some people act as if they had no shame
Some people curse you
When you don’t join the game
I sense your reluctance
In matters this tame
Why don’t you just try to disprove
those white noise blues?
Now I first noticed the tricycle
As I joined the right lane
Vehicles started dodging
The scene was insane
State officials were puzzled
A hot dog vendor went broke
A horse chewed through its muzzle
A gay midget told jokes
Why don’t you just try to disprove
those white noise blues?
So now I’ve got it together
And I’ve got it apart
They say you can’t raise a white flag
Over a broken heart
Tell that to the soldier
With his gangrened limbs
You entrenched on your sofa,
Sure wouldn’t want to be him!
Why don’t you just try to disprove
those white noise blues?
Categories:
gangrened, america, anxiety, confusion, fantasy,
Form: Verse
Tropical Thoughts
Gangrened toes, vitrified nose
stuffed and starched in puffy clothes
Howling wind biting into my cheek
painful reminder of Dexter’s technique
Cracking boots, frozen bones,
ready to crumble like yesterday’s scones
I dream of roasting on some desert plain
and promise in August to never complain.
©Kathryn McLoughlin Collins
January 5, 2012
Categories:
gangrened, seasons,
Form: Rhyme