Monday, November 24, 2014


There's nothing much—to see here
folks; he's
just your average—run
of the 

mill, bland super-
natural man.

Still somewhat of a card 
now and then, but
mainly around the emptier

kinds—of supper tables;
where it's austere 
and it's dark and late
and safe enough
to mumble through—

certain prepared remarks 
and droll little self-
deprecating numbers 

the source 
of his true power lies

in his rapacious capacity
to absorb 
and then smother—
the exceptional with the ordinary.

For instance—the most significant thing
to him 
about the lifegiving starlight
that fills your planet—

is just exactly—
and only—

the fact
that it's yellow;

or else, that he heartily dislikes that his—certainly
rather impressive!—and rippling
arms chest and belly;

still shake
when he laughs

like a bowl full of—he'd probably 
pretty uncannily 
quickly interject—toilet water.