Monday, March 14, 2011

My Bark is Bigger than My Bite

A piece written by my nephew Aaron, a gifted, up-and-coming poet…

Chicken of the sea, shiny silver scales hailing: “We need to evolve tonight”

Left fin extended, saluting civil upheaval via southern bend

That’s the reflection from the blurry shimmering in the murky waters

My soul swims in pollution with no HAZMAT mask on

Huckleberry Finn thumbing is dumbfounding,

Posing by the obvious usage of goblin hobnobbing

I’m all stumbling summersaults and awkward umbrage mistaken for

High stakes hatred

Who’s raking the leaves on my lawn?

Leave me alone, I’m some kind of dumb and fumbling all thumbs via

Scummy mentality

Trying to scrape together leverage so I can muster a “hello” to the

Barista as she creates my coffee

Who can afford more lumbar support or stomach average lunches so

They can squish between cleavage and beaver within skinny slivers of

Fantastic orgasms?

Spin a better lattice so my yellowish teeth grit fits knitted with indented intonation

Perfectly interwoven with worn out welcomes of worrisome shivers shouting-out so

Starstruck, thumb-sucking dumb fucks

Against my luck I snuck under the radar to find celibacy sanctuary

Statutory of limitations has expired

I’m hidden in a crooked rubber nook caroming

So slow-mo fancy HD

Am I gonna come out clean and finally stand on my own two feet?

I guess I’ll wait to see

The excitement is so palpable in a kaleidoscopic plethora of avenues

Philanthropic hope if only I’d win the lotto, so in the cards and you know it

I’ll be like the handout homie Great Gatsby

Life of the party intermixing gist with drinking but missing not for the lazy but

Because of social anxiety

Showcase my poetry in the Smithsonian only in a social state of dystopia

Let’s bask backwards for the marijuana brownie bake caked on my consciousness,

Complex logistics getting fragile helicopter moms pissed

Just get stuck in the most muggy of things stinging rigid that have no relevance

Cuz I’m busy crying about Forsberg retiring

Happy VD everybody!

 

~Aaron Daniel Purcell

2/14/2011

3 Comments:

Anonymous Anonymous said...

appears the artistic talent in this family is endless! Thank you for sharing! -RITK-

9:22 AM GMT-7  
Anonymous David Frey said...

Mr. Purcell: I liked your question, "Who's raking the leaves on my lawn?" It seems related to nothing else in the poem--it arises on its own, serves its own notice--which may be why it sounds to me like hope, like grace. But I admit I am bent in that direction... I appreciate the ordeal of "trying to scrape together leverage." Thanks for noticing. Why wait? And, thanks, Susan, for drawing my attention to your nephew's work.

1:40 AM GMT-7  
Anonymous Michelle LeJeune said...

Ripe with vivid imagery, both sad and ironic, "My Bark" was really moving. I really like it when a simple title is connected to a complicated poem. I'm glad I read it.
Michelle LeJeune

12:32 PM GMT-7  

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