10/11/12

What it means to be decapitated by lunch count

Autumns lawns

Are central valley yellow

Yesterday’s stifling heat

Hoary with frost

Upon a dawn chilled windshield

Route 99 commute

Bobbing head to old wutang

As I enter school

I imagine feudalism

Chain mail, swords, and trebuchets

Pages, vassal lords, and crossbow quarrels

Why are we studying stem and leaf plots today?

Wouldn’t it be nice to smash into a solid line of infantry

With armored horses lances splintering on

Iron half helms and punching holes in

Plated steel

Fourth grade origami folding on Friday afternoon

Is the closest I will ever get to shogun war shrieks and

Arrow fletchery

Custer’s ass is smashed against my boot

Little bighorn shoved in his throat for emphasis

I took away a boy’s recess for lying on his chair

And pretending to fly

What’s wrong with me

When did I become this

Balding medieval vigilante?

Shooting ink stains with Shout

Dreaming of blazoned, heraldic silken tapestries

Draped over mortarless stone masonry

Thrust into place by humping avalanches

The call of muezzins from the minarets

Of vanished citadels overlapping

Concussive spirals of enveloping

Longing for Godliness

When will the white sails billow

And the horizon race toward my face

And the stars stretch into hyperspace

And the trapdoors beneath infinity’s libraries

Open to that final REAL adventure?

The blade’s edge is razor sharp

And I fear

It may have already severed

My head

I will

Wait

Waiting

I wait

Impatiently

For it to

Finally

Fall

off