I start a poem or does a poem start me
I’m really not sure, but either way it’s all good
You’re like a library I’ll never check every book out of
Have you read Brautigan?
If not call me some night and I’ll read to you from “Watermelon Sugar” or “So the Wind Won’t Blow It All Away”
It will change you as the words tear from the page like convulsions or abstract bullets
I was born in the Garden of Eden under some rock or up a tree
You were always there even before God made Eve and Adam from dust
The serpent was an afterthought and that’s why evil is always chasing its obnoxious tail
Let’s duck into this casino that has air conditioning and talk about our dreams and the nightmares that elude us right before waking up
I hold onto you like a bungee cord because I’m new to zip lining and all the adrenaline that goes into such an unbelievable waste of time
Never forget when I reached for the pomegranate and you gave me the stink eye because you knew the fall was just around the next unexamined corner
You start a song or does a song start you
Either way you have that dark rhythm in your Brownsville soul
You’re like a hardware store whose nuts and bolts have been baptized by Jesus himself
Have you ever looked up in the sky and read your prosperity in the clouds?
If not call me some day and I’ll tell you your fortune like I used to when I was Jaspar the telephone psychic
It may not amount to much, but it’ll be fun to lay out the tarot cards and show you a side of myself I haven’t visited in quite some time
You were born in the Garden of Eden in a flowing stream or in a dark cave
I was always there even before God introduced shame to these absolute beginners
The serpent didn’t know what hit him or her when the forbidden fruit was bitten into and it was anyone’s guess who would come out on top and what difference it would make anyhow.
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