Poem a Day 7

Today’s poem comes from a prompt requiring a poem titled “Urban ____.” I wrote the poem, but then didn’t like the title, so I changed it to something characteristically ridiculous.

The Truth Revealed in the Chemtrails of a Goat

The spider eggs within the hair
Seemed irrefutable; but where
It all went wrong — we all went wrong —
Was in believing anything.

“It’s true! My dentist’s cousin…” claimed
A relative who won’t be named.
The testimonials that prove
The poodle’s in  the microwave

Are not dissimilar to my
Myopic but discerning eye
From all the evidence accrued
Of every war and genocide

By adepts, byzantine and proud,
In towers to which I’m not allowed
Because of rituals abstruse
Known as “the application process.”

My room is safe. My room is pure.
Behind these locks I am secure
From autism and men in black,
My blood without Pop Rocks and Coke.

schau

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