Sixty-Eighth Entry

Note to the readers/founders/practicioners of NaPoWriMo:

I've been enjoying this quite a bit. It's jumpstarted me. I have a reading coming up next week and I'll be reading almost exclusively NaPoWriMo stuff. But I don't own a computer! I know, how pathetic! And events are transpiring to make it harder for me to update regularly, so I'm going to miss a few more days in the month and for this I apologize.


Here's my poem:

A SONG

Everyone's so friendly I feel bad explaining the lyrics.
The first part is about a ghost, I'm not really sure
what he looks like or what he says, it's a mood piece,
there are fourteen ghosts in my real life and I wanted
to dedicate it to them, but the song doesn't really
refer to ghosts as much as it does to funerals.

Funerals are like theme parties. Every time
I kill I have to play the part of repentant,
kneeling before some family. Using glycerine
for tears. The second part, the middle eight,
I think or maybe the bridge? I wrote it
in the backseat of a bus coming from Philly,
it was about longing, which I had never felt,
and continue not to feel. I am most likely
a sheep, somehow converted into human form,
I do what the big boys tell me, be it
crime, punishment, it all paid the same,
so who cared?