Shack Attack


(for Shawna) 

..

Watch out,
the hoes have got it
in spades, shoveling
all this (b)itter (s)trange
soup, stooping to re
-bury their own bones.

We’re fin
-ally figuring out how to
(b)rake up the chaff,
collect the scattered (s)hells
of ourselves from the field,
the beach.

Play the ominious
music, baby. We’ve got
a part to play, a way
to turn crimson water
into indigo ink, hang
up our hammer(head)s,

………………..and play.

 

 

 

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4 Responses to Shack Attack

  1. ocean bones says:

    Hee hee. I’m downright giddy over this one. 🙂 I love all that BS woven throughout. That’s exactly what most of … everything … is! So why not just play instead?

    Oh, how I love this:
    “shoveling
    all this (b)itter (s)trange
    soup”

    And yes, we are doing this. Always:
    “stooping to re
    -bury their own bones”

    Yes:
    “collect the scattered hells
    of ourselves”

    YES:
    “Play the ominious
    music, baby.”

    Yes Yes Yes:
    “We’ve got
    a part to play, a way
    to turn crimson water
    into indigo ink, hang
    up our hammer(head)s,

    ………………..and play.”

    Love you. Big time. 😉

  2. ghostmmnc says:

    the double meanings in your poem are so innovative! 🙂 Love it!

  3. 🙂 Play – yes, that is the best thing we can do!

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