a poem by Cato and the Green Hornet (Melissa Coyle and Jenna Goldsmith)
The light slid in envelopes
stole a curtain for clothes
waking to open the rusty cages
letting the machines breathe
new electricity into the power lines
plagiarizing graffiti off the overpass
the stop today is dusty heaven
chickens hanging by their necks from the highwire
poor poultry, poor poultry
this shit would never fly in Denver
where the crowds paid us in what they could give
so chimps become gods and midgets got stoned
we wrote poems about things that never happened
and shook blood hands after carving “howl” into our palms with a “to go” fork
to the dismay of Linda our waitress
cause we tipped her in horse feed and the shavings from our pencils
and I said damnit, how’s that for educational!
so for one week I made and sold candlesticks
but a beard on a lady, on the road
is lies to a beatnik-revolving the earth
oh well we still have our eyebrows
whatever.
2 comments:
i really like your alternames.
Brilliant, ladies. You've outdone yourselves.
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