Like an inside-out hula hoop.
It scrapes and cuts just when you get to the best part.
Not like it’s supposed to be at all.
It’s time to throw it away before there’s more bloodshed.
It’d be easier to blame Whammo
like with those moon-shoes that bounced backwards.
There’s gotta be merit to this ending, either way,
like staring in wonderment at a forest fire
smelling the charbroiled woodland creatures
yet knowing somewhere down the line it’ll all come back.
After you’ve buried the hula hoop
or turned it into a trellis for lavenders
once you’ve learned to walk outside
to the wreathed purple buds
and smell them deeply without choking
maybe then you’ll find me on the other side.
Bwa ha ha ha! With Tod's ol' lappy safely out of the picture, it is time once again for the Paul Show! All Paul all the time! Unfortunately it seems we have already posted my good poems, so now I'm down to the crappy half of the barrel. I would apologize, but I got paid for these, bitches! So no matter how crappy they are they were worth something to someone (exactly $4 - the cost of a beer)!
This one was requested to me during the big rain storm, and I would have delivered it on time but Dani had to go abscond with the laptop to protect it from the weather (a futile task, it turns out). My words were wonderment, lavender, and shoes. Yes, she was trying to stump me, and she came very close. I still have no idea what the title means (and I'm pretty sure she didn't either).
If anyone wants to email me their poems I'll conspire with Tod to get them put up here.