Thirteenth Poem (Personally I Believe the Unknown Is Blessed With Us)

https://www.podomatic.com/podcasts/charlespoet/episodes/2017-04-03T19_24_10-07_00

Another poem

Another dig

Another Saturday spent wishing my daddy would take me for a bicycle ride

We love to feel left out

We love to feel the absence of love

We love to stop believing because with no belief the very real choice of disbelief can be left like roadkill in the middle of the dark end of the loosey goosey unpaved street

I loved when she’d surprise us with Long John Silvers

I loved the way her big ass looked in those grey sweatpants as she vacuumed and left nothing to chance

I’ll never forget when she shaved her pussy and I was convinced she’d done it for another guy. I of course blew it all out of proportion and lost any chance I had of again fucking her tight dictatorial irrelevance

Another dinosaur bone

Another excavation

Another poem I’ll bury in the backyard of this windswept mind

We plan for the disconnection of self from torrents of undignified, ill-equipped glory

We purge the contents of our stomachs believing whatever we ate an hour ago has only left us emptier and more uncertain of the unrested shadowy coon’s age dark

We build our hopes and dreams on Legos we never actually owned as the kid across the street takes his toys and goes home because you never played well with others

Another porno shot in poor light and poorer excuses for self-flagellation

Another worthwhile cause strung up by its hamstrings and left blistering in the unorthodox, nonredeemable sun

Another stab at pinning the tail on a donkey that brays for no reason other than it refuses to admit defeat and relishes both your attention and your unbridled enthusiasm.

Charles Cicirella

4/3/17