Thursday, December 17, 2020

my life is a comedy of errors and no one is laughing

when I was born I swear I slipped on a banana peel
it defined my life and maybe it will define my death, we shall see when the grim reaper comes around and attempts to sell me a reverse mortgage
expression and exposure that is all I have to give and if that’s not enough for you well then I don’t know what to say other than fuck off

these days most Cleveland poets drive around in neutral while I tend to ride the break because I know Henry Ford believed in a Jewish conspiracy to take over the world and I also know the man who revolutionized the auto industry moved the planet that much closer to an early grave
the pandemic has made being a pariah pretty much business as usual and what’s unusual is how you’re drawn to me like flies to cow shit
I wish to go around the bend one more time before I call it quits and hang up my spurs and my unvarnished wit

where’s Jim Murray when you need him?
he covered Dylan like no one else, but when it came to uncovering himself he’d rather escape into a box of Just For Men brown hair dye and pretend he was not as paranoid as he actually is
when he sprang the word intellect on me at the Spider when I was 17 he became extremely agitated when I told him I’d never heard the word before

when I died no one came to my services because they figured why pay attention now when they had been turning a blind eye already for so many unceremonious years
it’s okay though because all I really wanted was one more corned beef sandwich from Vienna and to know I had at the very least touched one or two people in my unscrupulous wake as a poet and a muckraker
she got down on her knees and before I could figure out what she was up to had gone through my pockets and slipped out the back door. I’ll of course never learn and invited her back into my heart over and over again because it’s lonely out here in space when all you have to keep you company is your own ego and a couple of scratchy 45s.

Charles Cicirella

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