the sieve and the sand

when despair sets in like loneliness
i take out a plate
penut butter and jelly and
i sing along to R Kelly

if that bastard can be famous for those
words

i can probably touch the sky

do you have a music permit?
the cable guy was late,
i brought a shotgun
WHEN?
they ask,
WHEN
WILL HIS SWITCH FLIP?
this public menace,
without a music permit
(they’re only mad
cuz the dayquil aint’
workin’).

The gaudy painting seemed out of place
At least until I saw the colossally kitschy tapestry nearby
And while I was staring at it
Soggy meat from my unwieldy taco dripped on the throw rug.

Dangit! I thought,
I hope there’s a napkin in the car.

There wasn’t.
Used a scraggly hat instead, figured I’d wash it later.

Back at the concession trailer, some sinister looking guy
Sold me a slice of pizza with too chewy cheese
That easily could have been skin
And the sweat tasting grease didn’t help any.
Of course he had a napkin.

I set my paper plate on a mound of mildewing books,
Manila and stained in all their glory.
There was a tangled cluster of yarns
For Joseph’s Technicolor dreamcoat, I guess.
A bloated box of chains,
Maybe for—never mind.
A 60-pack of knockoff batteries,
And a perfume canteen that smelled like baby barf.

I bid on a telescope and some sketchy bottled wine,
Which, had I won, I probably would’ve uncorked
One of them suckers on the drive home.

I think I saw a dinosaur bone back there too.
Who the hell buys this stuff?

The accident in the street
may as well be the front yard
with all the bright lights
flashing
filling my
windows
tearing my
eyes to midnight shreds
as they’re not so used to
blues,
at so late an hour

The cruisers running block
after block
all around
my sweet, sweet
sanctuary.
Enough,
to drive someone
insane

But,
my soul is filled with birdsong
and other sweet music,
and my eyes will close
to better listen to it,
and midnight blues
are not so blue again.