jarred pennies. one minute yer in an ugly tie, next yer at loggerheads
w/ the toothpick of your heavyweight waistline cheapskate landlord.
G-d bless job less America. “Residents watch helplessly as a 26-story
half-built skyscraper burns. The cause of the blaze, which lasted for
four hours, is unknown.”
trumpet truths. seriously, death is cheaper than medicine. watching
the shot-put who-pictures on the tv think-sink, some are gonna “Gotta
go!” but then there are the ones, fenomenos, who drop in on the ones
that don’t know the acceptable spells: a goldfish in a fur coat? I was
like, “uh... seriously?” shrugged, “k.”
like letting a fart out, slowly, after munching half of a day-old home-
made cookie. in.sin.you.ate, you bet, but what are we w/o our edibles?
orchestration chocolates could. amphitheaters on amphetamines could,
too. but don’t be coy w/ me, goldfish—you know I just saw you flash
that fold of federal reserve notes.
I gots me eyes out for a new teacher: blossoms of oxygen in a trom-
bone of trees—ever give any thot to the vision? I’ve a 10 a.m. & a 12:
45, but then it’s on to tuba practice. dDeep-fFried satisfied and a cache
of goldfish would be so good to us right now: let’s reunite in the ruins—
the brass section’s going song.
Paul Siegell is a senior editor at Painted Bride Quarterly and the author of three books of poetry: wild life rifle fire, jambandbootleg, and Poemergency Room. Kindly find more of Paul’s work - and concrete poetry t-shirts - at “ReVeLeR @ eYeLeVeL” (http://paulsiegell.blogspot.com/).