Tuesday, May 17, 2005

Poetry from Ray's Collected Stickies.

Yo, so I had some poetry published in the Achewood strip a little while back, and Chris asked that I pony up some more lines since folks was askin' for more outta my collection. I went through all the stickies on my desktop and got some of the better poems.

HOW HANGS YOUR DIRT

I wear my current dirt to Brubeck;
I wear my current dirt to John Alveoli.
My dirt goes to the Italian restaurant with me.
I have soft white ankle socks;
I just sideswiped you and made you think I am a rich girl.
I wear my deodorant one wipe at a time
I apply it in terrible cheap moments as the water drains through my cast synthetic sink.
I am a moderately aggressive man.
The raiment of man is dirt, in the guise of wool or cottonĀ¬
We wear things,
and we dust for prints,
and in the end we are worn.
Because in approximately a thousand years
whatever molecules I was
my electrons
they will be redistributed.
So no, I am not going to return your email,
because I am depressed.

Ray Smuckles
May, 2005