Friday, November 23, 2007

Black Friday

Dumbed by food,
my brother and I - bloated, bleating
joined others and waited for the doors
to bust open.

Sure, we understood the gravity of our numbers.
Behind the glass, we rattled the hinges
for effect. The floor buckled and
groaned in the language we spoke best.

By now, there were several of us storming.
In other words - risen, humid,
stalked by the shadows of great balloons:
perhaps weather, and gift certificates in bloom.

Our pants, let in before the rest of us,
were grown tight and tearing in the pockets.
My eyes grew bigger than my stomach
and had to be plugged in outside the sockets.

Inside the door, deep in shit,
we all grabbed all and ran with it,
taking turns down the aisles
and bored, like when we were kids,
yelling something. What he said
I can’t say, and vice-versa.

With fat thoughts left over
a small flame to crust at the edges and turn old,
I gave killer thanks and headed
home, or so was later told.

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