poem five (from 'way to go a-hole' chapbook)

texas (part two)

wearing a frown in a ‘sundown town’

skipping over cracks so as not to injure
my mother’s already-bad back.

love is lethal

and in texas you can shoot people

whether in your backyard or in front of a steeple.

sitting at work, in front of a computer, signed-in
to g-mail chat but remaining 'invisible'

i dream of a bigger city

to sink its teeth into me; i pray for rain
to moisten these desert tree leaves

i would like to leave in the middle of the early morning
carrying nothing but my backpack and the clothing
i’m wearing on my body

well, maybe i’d bring a change of underwear
and some condoms, just in case- i mean,
you can never be too prepared.

cutting the plastic circles of a soda pop six-pack of cans
in half then in quarters with pocket-knife scissors

i pause halfway through to wonder
if it really matters- i mean,

perhaps, being suffocated/asphyxiated
by a coca-cola package noose
is a better way to go down
than drowning in oil

although, that oil would have been worth billions
and billions; a six-pack isn’t that expensive