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Qualifications

Something’s missing. I wish I knew what.
Maybe it would cure me. Maybe not.
That sun’s out. it’s shining on my butt.
But it’s gone and hopeless.
What’s left is tut tut, wrangling and smut.
Sitting in a rocker in the middle of largess.
Snapping at others. It’s anybody’s guess.

The trouble is the tongue. It’s always sticking out.
I can hear people talking and I wanna shout.
Can’t you hear what you said? I’m not a good man.
From one moment to next I’m Peter Pan!
Who was that guy anyway? I never read the book.
Was he Fancy Dan or an ordinary snook?
Let me lie here, book open, with the latest look.

Words words words. May I please ease a cry?
Is there anybody here except my tongue and eye.
You’ve said as much when I kissed on the lips.
I could have flown over. Grab you by the hips.
A bummer in the sky. A marshmallow.
Here’s mud in your eye. I’m a tea toting fellow.
A contradiction of lies. Save me from the mellow!

Cut out my tongue.
I can always smile.
Then start my lunge
anticipating guile.
For the head’s ahead of heart
If the head’s not part of body.
No room from the start when you’re hot snotty.

Published in Poetry