c r o s s
c o n n e c t
e x i s t e n t i a l i s m
M A R K H A L L I D A Y
It's true I was a turkey yesterday
and a bit of an asshole the day before that
but that is all flotsam gone over the dam
thanks to our being in this
vastatious unknowable flux. Which makes for
hump upon hump of sadness except when I'm thinking
of my turkeyhood yesterday not to mention
anus behavior two days back.
Today is --
to rain whickles and the bonking
of workmen placing cobbles in the lane,
don't they care da da da da the rain?
Lane, rain -- can I not release this brain
from rhyme and make this day a secret
villa in the forest of some alternative to
Spain? Nobody can say
how I might be today -- oggi
oh gee -- let today be "Death to all those
who ever yammered on about the Death of the Author"
day. Let me be the most amazing non-poultry!
There is no proof that I cannot.
. . . No positive proof. Euripides,
"Outlaw Blues," come with me now babe
we got nothingness to lose.
© crossconnect, inc 1995-2002
published in association with the
university of pennsylvania's
kelly writers house