Archive for January, 2010
The Performer
He couldn’t put his finger on what was wrong . . .
His act remained the same . . .
He drew gasps of admiration
Provoking envious gales of laughter,
even with a bad act, a performance filled
with pissed off passion and heartfelt arrogance
conjured up respect
often grudgingly…
He was vital after all . . .
his schtick
his act
his guile
his performance
His troupe [...]
I smell old …
I smell old . . .
the smell of the
same clothes
the same undershirt
the same underwear
the same socks
the same shirt and pants . . .
I smell old . . .
my nostrils flare
violently in disgust
blowing does not rid
me of the stench,
the bellhop
of death . . .
I smell old . . .
Is it me?
My spirit is willing
my flesh becoming
weaker [...]