Smalltown Cocksucker Blues

smalltown cocksucker blues_20130828

when I see them
drinking down
the smalltown cocksucker blues
I wish I could just hate
this place
where people speak poetry
and ignore the landscape out of necessity

It chokes me
like a bad pun
and I have to
spit it out
spit it out!


the island has
the taste of
sour milk
the smell of
liquid manure

every  once in awhile

friction fails and the island slips
beneath my feet

I find myself in Montreal
drinking polish vodka from a paper cup
eating steak tartar from a china plate
new haircut
new friends
same old hangover
and the difference
between here and there
is only an accident
a temporary suspension of
a natural attraction
which is more than enough
to change my life
and my hair
but not the difference
you and me
here and there

AGG20131206 (Redux of two poems from the 1980s)

Depth Charge: Continuing on with my plan to post old poems I wrote about Prince Edward Island, here is a new beast formed from splicing the DNA of two distinct poems from the 1980s into a new poem for the 21st century.


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