how bad influences are born:
cultured rednecks in midwest EST
standard of blues and relative hues
fear of insects buzzing in bed clothes
country gruff waltz made of maj7s
resolving so familiar of 2001, lonely,
i wonder if rebecca remembers
returning from lunch alternating steps
on that purple and yellow lego plastic-
aftermath of a fire in the oldest middle school in ohio-
no, none of these are love poems,
just proof i am a harmonic series,
bugle calls, a wooden trumpet.
no more songs, just minimized skills,
juvenile flirtation- want to rent a room
(thanks to the silver jews)
in her dorm room where the incense perfumed,
there i picked up some secrets, i could share them with you.
that is, if you’ve got the brains,
to feel what intensity entertains.