Archive for November, 2010

Pixie Sticks

Posted in Uncategorized with tags on November 17, 2010 by unsensible

A ’68 Trans Am Jet Moto Cherry Red,
Mowed six 16 year old,
Pubescent pro-motivated ice-cream packing wannabes,
And broke their pixie sticks in a transcendental whir of hard-candy lip gloss and Day-Glo fairy dust.

The sidewalk lit like a carnival,
Their mall-clothes dispersed like confetti,
Their hair inexplicably perfect.
And if Jackson Pollock had been Jesus Christ at that very moment
Then faith had laid one definitive red dot down the lily forehead of that trend-rotten, iceberg lettuce on white community.

“Oh, the humanity,” cried chopper reporter
Alive-in-the-Sky-At-Five Fred
The traffic patroller in his flying machine
Weather prognosticator and leader of men

“The humanity!
I can see them below like fallen billiards.
I can see them lying like drunken sailors
One draped on the other in a final show of camaraderie.”

“And if they weren’t together, then they weren’t a thing and nothing is nothing on the face of this Earth.
Sunken cheek, string of spit, hollow-eyed, and trash-talking pouts.
They had their whole lives ahead. And them, with their sneakers still store white.”

And as Fred turns his flying nag back toward his home in the cumulous nimbus,
The sun falls hard, as though for the first time in love,
Over these six sixteen-swing-kids sweetly in love.

And no one shows to scoop to up their bodies
And no one dares to disturb their detached sanctity
And there they lie, ever still.

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