Dan McDermott 

 

Where
 
Where is here? Here? There? Where is there? Is there here? Here is there, but
where's where? Where's there. Where's here? Where's there. Where? There.
Where is where is here. Here is there. There is where. Here. Where. There.
There is where the here is there. Here is there so where is everywhere but
here and therefor here is here and there is there, but there can be here and
there can be where. Where? There. Here? No, there. And there. And here. And
where? Here. There? No, here. So there. There? No, here. Where? There. There
is where. Where? There. And here. Where!? There is where, or here is where,
or here is there, or there is here, but if here was there and for there to be
here you must be there. Where? There for there or here or where. There where.
Here where? No, there's where. Where? Here. There. Here.

 


 

Mr. Coffee
 
Artificial happy is the caffeine consumer's conundrum.
Sugar hyper buzzing in the ears of the indulgent.
Lack of sleep, sleep, sleepiness.
wake up wake up wake up
drug.
Hummingbirds flit and flut flut flutter as I stutter
and float
flat
fly.
God's a big pill
a big drug
it's his fault I can't sleep
I'm giddy
God
E
Too nervous to relax
Too relaxed not to care
I want to sleep.
I want to sleep.
I took this pill
I drank a drink
It made me whir
Buzz zip
Soar
Tired
I'm happygiddywackysilly
Tired.
The chemicals are happy but I'm not.
I'm just kinda sleepy.
But Mr. Coffee hasn't finished his party.
twitch.
twitch.
twitchity.
twitch.
A caffeinated slug is still a slug is still a slug
I am a slug
a slug that twitch a slug that twitch
a slug that twitches
twitch
twitch
No more coffee, thanks
twitch
twitch
Tired
twitch
 


 

I Need More Attention.
 
Look at me!
Look at me!
PleaseOhPlease give me attention.
I'm oh so cool.
Ever so cool.
I can wear your clothes!
I can do your drugs!
I can laugh at people!
I'll change my opinions, I swear!
Just tell me I'm cool!
Tell me I'm cool!
Tell me I'm cool!
Tell me that I'm cool.
I need it.
I need it.
If I don't have your acceptance,
I'll have nothing.
I'd be nothing.
No one will love me.
I will be worthless.
Could anyone ever teach me to love myself?
Hello?
Anybody?
I'm cool!
I think.

 


 

Mumsi and Dada
 
The child's horse, a pony to the layperson, is not for the laypersons: The
laypersons lie. Mommy has the truth. Mommy has the answers. Mommy has the
answers for the silly little children, the chinchillas that know not when
they will be made into slippers for the stinking feet of priests and
republicans.
 
A movement movement movement for the moving , we don't like the living
 
living.
 
Carnivorous sheep eat each other for the sake of the grass that they take for
granted.
 
Unattractive is pretty, and pretty, pretty, and pretty ugly funny and sort of
sad.
 
Ethics are a Tyrannosaurus, a terrible lizard crushing crashing destroying
devouring goats.
 
Mommy is a shotgun held to the temple of the mind of the brain of the heart
of the hopeless human alien, blood and snot and lima beans flicker from the
whole hole concaved or convexed or maybe vexed in the mind and the left foot
of the poorly educated bourgeois class.
 
I'm poorly educated; I like being poorly educated.
 
I am a slob.
 
I am a fool.
 
And I am happy. Baa baa, black sheep. Still a sheep, aren't you? Thought so.
 
I'm still a sheep I'm still a follower, but Mommy will show me the way the
way in the way of success or a green dress that makes me look and feel oh so
pretty oh I love it so. Pretty pretty pretty won't you love or desire or your
love will now die
 
and new die and you'll cry and you hope
that you smell
 
good.
 
So why won't you smell badly? I smell badly, I rarely shower I'm happy why
won't you smell badly smell bad I see a happy sad woman who wants to smell
like many things.
 
Just smell like you do.
 
"Quack quack quack" said the sad woman
 
the sad woman
 
who is your Mommy. Mommy who will save us. "Mommy who will save us, Mommy?" 
 


 

Obligatory Tree Poem
 
What would happen if a tree fell, and everyone was around to hear it?
Would we all go deaf?
Would anyone cry?
Would the world explode?
Would anyone even listen?
Would they want to hear?
Would the tree speak to us, telling us not to worry?
Or to worry?
Would we cut the tree up for burning?
Would we blame the tree for the house it fell on? For the destruction it
caused?
Stupid tree.
Would we videotape it and watch it on the news?
Would we mourn the loss of a tree?
Would we feel bad for the squirrels who lost their homes?
Would we pity the baby birds in the fallen nest, twisted and bleeding?
Would we all go home and think about the tree?
Would we all fall down also, in a vain attempt to copy the tree?
Would we stare, or look away?
Or both?
Would we all die?
Would we remember the tree?
Would the tree feel pain?
Would life go on without the tree?
After all, it's just a tree.

 

 

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