GALACTIC BISCOTTI

"The Exploding Head of Don Quichotte" by Salvador Dali
“The Exploding Head of Don Quichotte” by Salvador Dali

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

i am sleepless and doped up on cough syrup and listening to boards of canada
i am still flip flopping between being a cowboy and a buddhist monk
but really i am flip flopping between being alive and being dead
between being a nice outstanding young man who is a good samaritan
a real back breaker, a real gem to society and then i’m being
a ghost haunting this town home, pacing through the halls flicking the lights on and off
working on my lurking skills because my lurking skills need work
writing poems about writing poems about writing poems
and sending them to christopher nolan and letting him know it will be the biggest thing
since inception

i dream within this dream within this dream
i moved around a lot as a kid and part of me thinks
that i really never stopped moving
but really and i mean really really
is it possible to stand still?

we are agents of chaos
we are geriatric children

i dream within this dream within this dream
and i pay mind to the beautiful eyes and i stop to unwind beside them
and i tell them i love them that i want them or need them and sometimes
they nod their heads and agree with me and sometimes the joy fades from their pupils
and i move on

i do not stay where i am not welcomed
i do not stay where love is finite
because my love is infinite like a giant bottle of shaken up soda
exploding across the cosmos

my love is john muir beneath a redwood tree
my love is going back in time to sylvia plath
to try and talk her down while she is preheating the oven

i dream within this dream within this dream
and i use to be afraid but i am afraid no more
fear is stupid
anger is stupid
and stupidity is just the way you feel
when nobody told you
what you now know
now that somebody took the time to tell you

i dream within this dream within this dream
and i live for this day and the one before it
and the one after it as i sit around with these
out-of-order days at the apogee space cafe together
drinking cosmic lattes and interstellar macchiatos
as we share a galactic biscotti

COPYRIGHT BRICE MAIURRO 2014

READ “COUGH SYRUP HAIKU #3”

Author: brice maiurro

Denver poet. Author of Stupid Flowers, out now through Punch Drunk Press.

10 thoughts on “GALACTIC BISCOTTI”

  1. Dude. So excellent a poem. But I think your denial of the value of anger belies what I see in the poem. I think you have some soulful anger, and I don’t think it’s a bad thing. But either way, I love this poem and your work in general. I hope Mr. Nolan takes notice!

    1. I think the line about stupidity helped me clarify the usefulness of anger. I don’t think anger has no value. I believe anger is often due to confusion or disappointment and helps us identify what we are feeling. What I think is important is that we get past that anger. Also thanks for reading, Trent. It feels good to have some momentum going and to get wrapped up in poetry again.

      1. Keep dealing it, you’re one of the best poets I’ve seen hereabouts, and you should be bloody huge. Glad you’re back into the swing of it.

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