September 27, 2008

I remember when poison
was clearly marked
with a skull and bones,
and, drunk by grinning cartoon characters,
resulted in Xed eyes, a dramatic expiration,
eyes uplifted to heaven,
fanfared closing credits,
and then they’re back
for another improbable episode.

Like many lessons learned on Saturday
mornings, this one falls rather short.

Sugar Smacks are not a complete breakfast,
and knowing is much,
much less than half the battle.

This poisonous man invades
our safe places with bows,
eyes uplifted to heaven, and servile
words that fool no-one — unless, perhaps,
he fools himself, truly believes
that poison unseen, hidden away,
imagined gone,
miraculously transubstantiates
into grape juice,

that those of us who have drunk
deeply of this
too-many-years aged vintage
spontaneously spring back up
for another slapstick-filled
show, brought to you
by Matel and Kool-Aid,

and by Arsenic,
part of this complete breakfast.