1/1

Donald Davidson
on the defense of tradition
I turned my head
away from Her so I could listen

something rings true
but fails at the feet of Grace
absolute in its power
absolut Face

about face
timeless walkability
choice cut, dry heave
abandoned supermarket sleeves

chinstrap beard mentality
casual friday every day
hippies done won
but I'll be damned if the Dark One's
gone

supplanting Poem for
homoeros
Bucks Unlimited
tattoos of sparrows

ripped from the earth
and dipped in fondue
forever
Xtreme Dante
undashing, clever

the robot lawnmower
spake to the robot
harvester:
at least there's no more
yip yap a botherin' Her

instead the cold cleaves
to discs, and dusks empty
of men, REAL MEN
and farmers' daughters aplenty

ghost dog growling
middle of the night
people shouting!

it's a white person fight

crying slowly
chrome to the bone
ding dong ditching
cell phone on rome

charles horse
on my good leg
towards Christmas
I never beg

found a button
under the root
pressed that shit
made a sound, a poot

Sophocles
waking up dead
turtle doves smiling
because:
69, head.