Enough, oddly, that my hopes
Jumped, I’ll have to admit, when
I saw the personally addressed envelope
To me from the Donald.
No time now to digress on
How thinking of the Donald
Leads me to thinking on the Daffy
Leads me to Hollywood and back
To a Martian named Marvin, of the
Anatomical re-atomizer thing-a-ma-jiggy
Fame. No time to digress on now
How thinking on one quack
Leads one to think on cartoon
Depictions of le comédie humaine,
As Pepe would flirt at us, mon cherie,
Or how many meanings celluloid
Can come to symbolize. I can cop
To an attenuated attention span,
Leaning on the back flap’s address,
230 Park Avenue
10th Floor
New York, NY 10169
All the spectacle and horror
This brings to mind, even though
The postmark brazenly proclaims its point
Of origin as 60563,
Naperville, Illinois, as it turns out
To be. Which is copacetic by me,
We have all to come to a point
Where and when we are from some-
Where which is not where we
Are from. I am not from here
But here is where the Donald
Finds me and my anticipation.
I lick my lips before carefully
Sliding my thumb under the seal,
Too aware of how quickly metaphor
Could come out and play. Under these feted
Circumstances I am heartened that I do
Not name my body parts
(such as this little toe is Pinky,
This is Big Johnson, et cetera)
After sentence structure parts
Or literary terms. This is my wrist;
I call her Predicate. And so on,
Because there is a quickening of the heart
Like when the pretty girl in the orange
Dress looks at you when she is really
Looking past you to her husband
Coming in the blue door behind you.
Even when you know you don’t
Know. And so the moment changes,
Becomes the kind of dead that is often
Mistaken for enervated or edgy.
You are so deep in a tunnel
That echo becomes permanent
Pattern of speech and touch
Becomes the juice why jitter
And bug of skin. At arms to relax
And breath, to stop your nose from
Spinning around your head, whirling
To a stop behind a point that is directly
Between your arms, beneath your shoulders,
Above your coccyx and around the mole
You are in denial about. It is cancerous,
Like the other ones, and you can add
And six and five and six and three
Adds up to Illinois, not Park bienvenue
But maybe, just maybe,
You think he’s heard something,
Word has gotten around, you have
Been mentioned, noticed, somehow,
And without wondering how, there is
The brief moment when you are seeing
Hades himself lick his lips
Before dragging pink Persephone
Into the abyss, you are counting
The zeroes on the check
You will never cash
Or understand.
© 2012 – Mark A. Douglas – All Rights Reserved
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