I watch the crazy
lady yelling at the desk
clerk; The couple fighting two
booths away; The paranoid
schizophrenic handling both
sides of the conversation; The
beggar demanding change;
and
the best of everything, that
I crave, that I prefer, that I gather
up and
take with me.
It can’t
help but get the neurons
firing. Going every which
way.
Aak! Oh my heavens! So many
neurons firing all
at once that I’ve been
possessed by the ghost of
William
Carlos Williams! I
must need a vacation!
Yes. Yes, that
must be it! Perhaps in
Majorca. In fact, I
heard
that… that… that…
There once was a girl from Majorca,
Who would rather eat beafa than porka
She was kicked out of Cannes
When she ate with her hands;
And was tolda to eat with a forka!
There now. That sent Mr. Williams screeeaming away into the night. And I did not spill a single drop of pea soup! But… I think I may have mentioned that I was planning to avoid that whole limerick affair, did I not?
Damn….
Filed under: Introductions Tagged: Anger, Art, Degradation, Frankfurt School, Funny, God, Haiku, Humor, Outrage, Poem, Poetry, Ugliness, Ugly
