Oo, ah, it’sa creepin’ up it’sa
January new. —Pal I knew, I knew,
I’ma bring small tokens, a few, of my appreciation.
Let’s paint this old prince new hues,
here, sniff this. —Coo, coo! What’s that sound?
Down by the bay, with rewards all around
watermelons are growing. I sit by my reflection
cradle couple pounds, peering through the water.
With many half eaten parts left over,
and fresh ones aplenty for each year’s count
I race & arch forward for inspection
dark eyes and loose limbs from this (r)aging disorder.
—Mr Nimh high hopes for the life in order.
Three cheers in Mid-Atlantic accent (I can’t stand much else)
hold the doors close, pass over the seltzer (let out the dogs)
Henri spits out cold and pulls up the belt. No one is jels.
This year I’d like to blame everyone but myself.
(I strip naked. Walk forward into the water)
