(For San, my 2000^th visitor, who wanted a poem or two from my book. I’m giving her five cause I’m a nice person)

Another week for spring cleaning
Another seven days to wash out my worries
And if my house doesn’t sparkle this time
I’ll have to clean it all over again

Take the squeegee
And run it through my brain
Scrub every nerve
Dust my veins
Pour Clorox in my ears
And flush out my memories

Go deep if you can
With your Windex and rags
Break up the rust and lime
Chase away mildew
Make my face shine again

Pick away the edges with a  toothbrush
Scrape the gunk with your knife
Spit on my arms and rub your fist in my skin
Anything to make me look brand new

Break out Mr. Clean
Run a vacuum across my stomach
Bring down the cobwebs
And chase the mice back into the field
I’ve got to glow
I’ve got to gleam this time

Another week for spring cleaning
Another seven days to wash out my worries
And if my house doesn’t sparkle this time
I might have to burn it down

~ ~ ~

Brother wants to be Cajun for a day
Driving down to New Orleans
And mooning those girls
Who’ll happily drop their tops now and then

Momma’s screaming bloody acts of violence
As she’s beating lint out of his clothes
So he reiterates, fires a big one back
Demanding fun in Louisiana
Or he’ll treat her with silence forever

So she’s bawling buckets in the kitchen
And he’s plotting a rebellion
Making plans of things to do
Making lists of girls to hit on
When he becomes Cajun for a day

My mother is a basketful of nervous breakdowns
My brother is God’s apprentice or so he thinks
Just cause he gets to be Cajun for a day
Color me disgusted
They are reasons for me to wish
I stayed longer in the gene pool before surfacing
Or maybe to never surface at all
I’m hating them as each day passes

And to think…
I owe them so fucking much

Drive me to Miami
And calm the fuck down
We’re losing our minds up north
So let’s chase the sun till it goes down

She’s smoothing out the wrinkles in her skirt
As I’m packing my burdens in one suitcase
Outside, I hear the hollers of merchants
And the growls of hundred hungry dogs
Sniffing through alleyways and garbage
I haven’t seen Spring in three months
Nor have I seen the ground

I smoke my joint as she’s washing her hair
And I see children running across the streets
Boys on the left, girls on the right
It’s a zoo without cages
People lay crap wherever they can
And expect someone will clean it up

I wipe the windows as she’s folding the laundry
And I’m trying to forget this place
Too much pollution in my ears
Too many insects crawling in my tub
Yet not enough space to live a life

I forgot what a rose looks like
I don’t remember the different types of birds
Peace? Quiet?
What are those?
I’m not going to find them here.
Neither will she.

So we had to make a decision
And she made it for the both of us

Drive me to Miami
And calm the fuck down
We’re losing our minds up north
So let’s chase the sun till it goes down

~ ~ ~

Look at all your spots
From head to toe, you’re a serious man
You pick away at lint on your sleeves
And crane your neck to see the clouds

Scratching the dirt with your toe,
You mark your territory
Then spit at a cactus
And keep chewing away the inside of your mouth

With that steel between your nose
And the ivory hanging from your ears
Your fingers are worn like parchment
Your lips are dried mud
With blood-shot eyes and a sniff,
You look down on me
So I have to speak

Giraffe man, can I ask you a question or two?
Why do you have so many spots?
Why are you so tall?
And I’m wondering if you ever are afraid

The giraffe man only smiles
Says he doesn’t care of their looks
Or the whispers they send each other
He’s fine with gold rings above his eyes
And the spikes on his tongue
He doesn’t care what they think
I shouldn’t care about them either
It’s a society, after all

Go to Originals

Email me: sweetandsourcyanide@excite.com