Hookers or Cake

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I'm too wacky to be hip.

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      ------------------------------------ There was a large painting of Evel Knievel shaking hands with Richard Nixon. It hung in the Mayors office. Late one evening after everyone went home. I took it down to the lab. I zoomed in on Evel’s left eye a 100x and enhanced it. It was an address. I went to the address. It was a modest, 1970’s style, split level ranch home in the suburbs.

      ----------------------------------- Inside I found a dead parrot lying on a waterbed. I revived the parrot with some saltines and adrenaline. We became good friends. The parrots name was Randy. One night a few years later while Randy and me played Gin Rummy, he sang me a song about a fire. The title of this blog was never mentioned but I sensed it, and Randy confirmed it by giving me ‘THE LOOK’.

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          • October 10, 2010 2:33 pm
             Sometimes you open yourself backwards to such hot trembling moments…that you smash all the snack cakes in the world and fashion them into cheap, wobbly robots.Robots who  garden all day and nightRobots who sing of deceit and modified corn syrupRobots who tell of the boundless luster of kittens soulsRobots who know that God invented our entire reality just so he could say that Johnny Cash was a close, personal friend.


             Sometimes you open yourself backwards to such hot trembling moments…
            that you smash all the snack cakes in the world and fashion them into cheap, wobbly robots.

            Robots who  garden all day and night

            Robots who sing of deceit and modified corn syrup

            Robots who tell of the boundless luster of kittens souls

            Robots who know that God invented our entire reality just so he could say that Johnny Cash was a close, personal friend.

            33 notes Filed under:  Hello I'm Johnny Cash, is this a Star Crunch I see before me?, shitty poetry,.
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          by Peter Vidani. For .
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