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Funny Faces


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Brin made up this song, sitting on the cement steps
of our front porch, playing an acoustic guitar:

Pull shorts and a t-shirt from the pile
in the closet, walk barefoot

to the store, buy candy bars and coke.
Finish the bottle—thoughts make funny

faces and sound like people shuffling
under our window. The sun comes

from the land the city leveled
in 1963, big on

its downward slope, it stirs the acids
and bases in the tissue between

your bones and the quilt. The hair
on your head is a mad conductor’s.

Your face is a blowfish. You are
a busy beaver laughing—when

sleep tickles you to death, you spasm
until you become fish.




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post #236
bio: john ball
perma-link
4/15/2008
11:07

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April - National Poetry Month 2008

Category List
Angels
April - National Poetry Month 2005
April - National Poetry Month 2007
April - National Poetry Month 2008
April - National Poetry Month 2009
Blather
Blather
Correspondence
Demons
February Smackdown!
Here, I'm trying to be Funny
My personal favorites
Novel Excerpts
Random Memoir Fragment



Previous Posts
Please Support My Run in the NYC Marathon
A Fortunate Age (trailer)
Albums. Landlines. Square television.
I don't love anything, not even Christmas
My favorite place in the world
How do you Plea?





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· Stone Ruination IPA
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· A Fortunate Age
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