Tuesday, July 20, 2004

Tiger Poem #5

Daniel Nester weighs in.  And tigers weigh ALOT!
what’s he like? the man himself?

the second hand chumps in Godly
Play—I mean, phooey—! My first hand
in three rings for an out in the open act—
can’t you see I talk here to interrupt—
a third—well no, a stringed-out stop
cos we all don’t get much breakfast no more
round here for nowadays—just eggs easied up
for workaholics for the scholars who
chomp up tiger-bits of a certain curtains—
make out in the bug house all you want but folks
mean what you make, make what you mean
cos it’s just as easy to bake up the cry,
on a porch or simply lament alot—
and believe me now, partners, believe me
serve speech only when it growls
when it growls—you understand?
what’s he like? the man himself?
oh me I grew up in alot of spaces
I just space everything out

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