Look at Me with November Eyes, Child
I'm emptying my notebook
into the office coffee maker.
I'm up in the lil' guy seat
with a pennant and no autographs --
This alkaline wooden moment --
I'm standing here with a plastic sack.
full of undeveloped film and no Fotomat.
my frozen heart of black bat leather
like the angel babies
with almond eyes --
than a bunny
in a squirrel suit.
The last time I lived in Texas,
I almost turned into an armadillo
right there on the highway --
that's an old joke to old Jack Kennedy,
right here on the front of my half-dollar.
I'm not taking any notes today
like Old Ezra always does.
I can deal with the hand cramps,
but my face gets itchy, Jack.
About the author:
J. D. Nelson experiments with words and sound in his subterranean laboratory. His poems have appeared in many small press publications, both print and online. He lives in Colorado, USA. Visit J. D.'s website for more information: http://www.MadVerse.com
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