Receipt
-------------------------------------------

I was walking and talking down the street Suddenly I felt something bearing down on my feet Looking down at concrete I saw a turtle wearing a girdle; In it’s mouth a receipt It said “hear is your receipt sir, for the groceries you bought earlier today, with the money that was stolen from the offering plate, while Reverend Hilks drank a glass of milk and prayed that one day every sinner would become a saint.” I tried to explain “ I said “listen here turtle Reverend Hilks is corrupt Yesterday I saw he and miss Daisy Enter a motel with handcuffs” Well, the turtle called my bluff and shrieked “It’s a lie” He tucked his head in his shell I started to cry I couldn’t believe I was outwitted by a turtle, especially not one wearing a girdle So I picked up the turtle and put it in my backpack In between my shoes and an old hacky sac Stuffed with beans Full of holes Resembling a screen door Unable to close My eyes The sun shining brightly over head Hanging over in sheets; lucid dream’s of last night’s bed I trip Falling over a Bush Cheney sign Mouth full of magic mushrooms I mush them into moments Swallowing stems of psylobins and their cap components My backpack opens The turtle walks out The sprinklers turn on the lawn It starts spawning like a trout Soon grass begins to grow in places where it shouldn’t My hair turns to grass My hand become wooden Cotton crowds my mouth Shoving my teeth aside Soured by the bitter taste my tongue decides to hide I stand up and brush myself off Coughing out tiny rainbows Combing through my grassy hair I shake grains of dirty prose “Spare me your introductions” I say to a black squirrel passing by He shook his head and hurled an acorn at my eye, Luckily I dodged it and he ran up a tree Only after challenging me to a spelling be He said spell “epileptic” “As in the seizure of the day? I ask I spelled it, Tied my tennis shoes, sipping vodka from a flask I ask myself “who am I?” “Who?” an owl echoes back I try to find my tongue so that I can react My tongue has gone back to hiding In the bottom of my mouth Rolling like a marble Thoughts migrate south It’s time to go to sleep now Crimson sun is setting overhead So I climb on into lucid dreams of last nights bed Head against my pillow Billowy white clouds I finally close my eyes Invoking a black burial shroud

Submitted on 2004-10-26 14:09:25     Terms of Service / Copyright Rules
Submissions: [ Previous ] [ Next ]