Remote Lack of Control

by

Doug Larson

I know, I know, but listen
I suffer from
a remote lack of control
and a steaming stack of uncanned ideas
There’s this burning hair smell
(teeth being drilled)
blood spilled
are we there yet?
Are we here?
So whaddya want anyway?
eggs in your beer?
What the Hell does that mean by the way?
It makes no sense to me
two cents?
A penny for your thoughts?
Seems awful cheap for the contents
of a human mind
which at this present time
in this body of rhyme
is doing double time
in a high speed blender
Orange Julius my gray matter
into foamy batter
and the batter’s up
a swing and a miss
a ball low
and outside
a fast one in the fat spot
hard hit in the sand lot
and outta the park in a megasonic blast that rattles windows
from here to Ohio
oh me oh my oh_. see
how the track is separated up ahead?
Watch how______the train_______jumps..

.wait a minute..
.see Everquest..
.Online Adventures Beta 3 Monk report
and Hamlet
and Debussy
Prelude to the Afternoon of a Faun
and a Midsummer Night’s Dream

where’s oephim? I can’t find the big O!
is it in the Big Sky?
I don’t know

we all know the rest of this sonnet
and how it goes

doggonit!

sorry

it’s only my lack of remote control

NEXT?
Why don't you look at Hide
by: Richard Betts Jr.
from: Warrington, PA, US

To visit all of Doug Larson's poems, click HERE

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