Dear Twin Falls--
It hailed on our caravan today, but we
arrived. So this is militia country. How far are you
from Ruby Ridge? We've made camp & resumed proof-
ing the gospels, preparing for our own armed stand-off.
We begin rations & radio silence tomorrow. Undisclose
our location. No more 20 questions 'round here. No more
tellin' us sweet little lies, indeed. Have you ever killed a
man? We're all white flags here. All inoculated. The con-
taigents don't come from our literature. Our burial rites
are no one else's business. Our ammo's legal & up to code.
Nothing to divine here, officers. We're just a practicing
choir, just singing. We too have a contingency & holy land.
Who art blessed,
Quad Cities
Dear Berkeley--
Ring around the lecture circuit & what of intent?
We need to find the seams in our favorite jeans or black t-shirts
where the intention's stitched in. No magic-- we don't need no
stinking illusions! Soulless card tricks perfected to pick pockets.
Better to mime; who else chooses words so carefully? & theory
or not, there's something to say, even if it's already been said--
we rock transitions, not segways. More than bi-pedals, pedaling
for dear life, bike lanes or no. Nothing's forgotten quick as riding
a bike for this boy, public schooled & simple. Mono-lingual, but
a solid wiffle-baller (& what matters that?). Earnest appreciation,
sure, but rock n' roll's asleep in a bed & it's legs are too long. Are
we anything but manicurists? Perhaps this is no place for theories.
Here we might be eaten alive.
Keep the river on your right,
Quad Cities
Dear Versailles--
Can't say there's too much ice in your work, but
certainly the underlying tenderness of your freakouts's enough
for me to never heal properly. But it's not about having hands
big enough for the whole world, is it? Not enough to host your
own daytime talk show? You don't make-over-- shooting back
at satellites, fighting off the soda factories & though I've no riot
to prove it, I'm w/ you 100%. Us men aren't all slime, our trans-
missions not exclusive to digital. Some are just rehabbing. Just
getting right for the post-season, but I guess that message misses
more than it mixes. If they were less scrambled, more people'd
listen up, don't you think? So have your scary collages & words
will hang fifty yrs back. I can just forge me a clean bill of health:
I'll push the broom & keep the scraps.
If that is indeed your name sir,
Quad Cities
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© 2009 Word Riot
