People Are Not

Creatures with epileptic heads
Roll skulls at the waterhole.
They’re made of brown
And stitches of chitter chatter.

MTV music videos

Can be awfully tribal.

Some outer space

Buzzes, zips, zings
Out of speakers
And into bobble-head
Receivers.

They’re still rolling.

Galassi

Sits annoyed
In my lap.
We’ve never felt
So black-sheeped
Had we night cloaks,
Pitch wool pitching pitch,
And clicking tip-tapping
Hooves.

Blue Bud Light bulbs

Imitate starlight
On oceans,
But that’s all
Any of this is,
Imitation.

Reflection of images

Of what everyone
Wants to be,
But I am mirror shards
Refracting inharmonious
Face fragment,
Shedding pages
Of a dusty pink
Poem.

Poolside means

Bronze bimbo busts,
Shiny blue cans,
And “You can’t read!”

We failed ourselves

Today.