poetry by Larry Fisher
When I was a kid
I was so into dinosaurs
I don’t remember losing interest
But now that I have kids
I just learned about them again
It’s so cool to learn about
What I have become
Soon I will be fossil fuel
The pressure of pressing silence
Eventually will involve violence
I don’t mind dying a little every day
Especially, since I’m murdering you
With all my small talk
I’m a great person to kill time with
The Angel Of Death
Farted in my face this morning
Six people got sick next door
From Carbon Monoxide poisoning
A pipe broke on the heating system
The Fire Department woke me up
In order to make sure I was alive
Obviously, one day that Angel
Is going to cut off my head
And shit down my neck
So, I’m alright with losing some sleep
As long as it doesn’t happen every night
We are each a blade
Crossing paths
Pointed in a V
We can cut up
Anyone and anything
That comes between us
That V must be “Victory”
Most men walking through a Cannibal Village
Who meet up with sexy Cannibal women
Will drop their pants despite the possible confusion
Or potential for disaster when she says,
“I’d like to eat your cock”
I love meeting New Yorkers outside the City
We can reflect on our missed nightmares:
The push me, pull you
Attitudes of how we treat each other
The ability to get away with murder…
But not a parking ticket
To hear screams and ignore it
Even if it is our own
When I meet New Yorkers outside the City
We can laugh about who we are
But if we meet again in town
It’s hard to say if we will acknowledge each other
We cherish our privacy that much
And now we know each other’s number
We can share
We look at each other
And laugh hysterically…
When we discover
We are laughing at different things
We end up laughing about that
Does a depressed Theoretician
Know when he is going to commit suicide?
Does a Mortician know
When he is going to fall in love with a corpse?
Look, life is a numbers game
Play the lotto
You gotta be in it, to wing it
And it doesn’t matter
What the fuck actually happens
Loose lips sink dreamboats, dreamboat
And it can be hard to be ship wrecked
With someone who blames you
For a vessel that set sail a long time ago
It’s why bumming cigarettes
Is so much easier to bum off the insecure
Than to ever bum a cigar off of a fat fucker
But I’m willing to stay shipwrecked with you
As long as you help me collect the coconuts
We can bang them together
Then flap our wings
For the entertainment
Of the Professor and Mary Anne
We’re only trapped if we feel like we are
There is no difference between me
And the me, you think you know is me
I mean, if there were a difference
What part would be authentic?
What part would be a bad reproduction?
Am I just trying to confuse you for
When you think you have a problem with me?
And flipping it around to make you think
That you have a problem with yourself?
I can be such a bastard…
We both agree with that
December 29, 2011
Larry Fisher
