oll korrect



OK is everywhere, every country, every language
like music or smiles universal—
it’s said to have come from a Founding Father
who misspelled "all correct" on an
important
revolutionary
document.

If he had only known.

Some two hundred years later and
everything has moved on too quickly.

my mind is only just catching up
to find things it should have been patching up
some six years ago or so. or more.
this is volatile.
this is dangerous, and scary, and oh-so tantalizingly infantile.
but...

how do you declare
how do you make a declaration
with no shoulders to stand on
no one to come before

and a whole lot of frustration, and running away (brave sir robin),
which i don't much care for.

OK, let’s move on:

take an image, something real to you, to you and no one else,
one piece of celluloid or a polaroid,
fold it in half, swallow it whole, mull it over
in the gray squishy tissues up above
the world so high
what’s the picture?
what do you taste there in the paste you’ve made of
a once clear shot.
like a bullet.
maybe...

maybe mother’s swaddling arms and daddy’s perplexed face
waiting for you to say something, ("please let it be me first")
waiting, and pacing, hearts a-leapin’ like
that time you rode your bike over
a pile of wood chips
flipped head-over-handle bars
bloodied nose, bloodied bravery.

you knew, one day, that you not like the rest
look at me when I’m thinking of you
had to say something about that thought
get your fingers outta your mind
had to stand up tall and shout it out to the world
stand straight, don’t slouch, spit out your heart
had to thrust fists high and proclaim the Truth
be quiet, settle down, don’t blow your brains in
had to tremble before G-d and wonder,

is this all, was that it?

be more cryptic when talking to your deity
don’t make a tool of me.

Come this Far. a drawn line to be jumped over,
like the moon, velut luna,
freely with glee and other "eee"
we go. like lambs. to the ennui.




copyright 11.15.02 -erm


back