New poem! For your Sunday morning. Peru inspired. Poems extracted from outdoor plumbing Middle of the night March to the outhouse Nothing but the hum of ancient alien bugs seeps through mist of the Peruvian foothills. I get a thought- What if we were sent Here To build this court And then be sacrificed To ancient Extraterrestrial gods For abundance And maybe A Peruvian chance To win the World Cup. I Walk more swiftly On the way Back from my piss Months of excrement Particles Stuck in my nose Even after I tried to breathe through My mouth It doesnt work And theres something Sick in me About the need to sniff The outhouse air Most likely my bodys need To create a memory They say olfactory is our strongest sense. Safely to the door of The adobe shack I push through exhale A honking donkey in the Distance Gets me thinking Even more A few days Earlier on a hike I saw him tied up In the middle of the field With three goats Immediately I thought He might be there to guard then from the Chupacabra. Someone else from our group said They learned From the locals the hee-hawing was its way of saying hello Before I shut the door I pause and look at the fruits of our labor the concrete laso a beacon of hope for a civilization of people who still believe the way their ancestors did but I know sports brings reprieve from everything life offers that we Want to forget. I look up one last chance to see a UFO Faraway Travelers who built Peru centuries ago But, this morning Hungry clouds have eaten the whole sky Away. First time all week not a sound outside- No roosters with broken alarm clocks Mangy dogs Jockeying for found Scraps crackling of Corn cob fires Turkeys Motorcycles Cats in heat Anxious locals playing Huayno music sad radios remind them of better times or at least when they were not as lonely -- here family is never far Unlike back home They might not be far enough. The only thing I hear Is my heart and the plague of singing insects Perfect harmony. Without their sound The world might be dead. Or I might be. Stuck in between Two lives Here and there. I step inside the dirt Everywhere room pull up my socks Ponder how all week I havent thought about Work My bank account Bills LA traffic jams Wars in the Middle East The latest police injustices. About the only thing Thats crossed my mind All week Is, Who the screaming jack ass In the eternal dark distance Is greeting at 3 am in the morning. #courtsforkids #bethechange #basketball #futbol #peru
Posted on: Sun, 24 Aug 2014 10:59:26 +0000
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