The Pigskin Boxing Glove vs. Champion Idealist
The Pigskin Boxing Glove vs. Champion Idealist
Obliteration by rote knowledge.
Spoken
broken-back
spit-too-ie!
What would this mad world mean
if not for the beauty
of the idealist?
Take a moment
to project forth
a fancy
deep beneath
the gilded rights of
America.
Take a longer moment for:
-food
-sex
-shelter
and jokes that
seemingly suggest
Intrinsic Truth.
Take a moment
to project forth a fancy
deep beneath the gilded rights of America.
I love Jesus
(and Bob Dylan)
‘cause they make me
cry
when my heart
is a brown pineapple
an ol’
pigskin boxing glove
wrapped in
ribbons
of
rusty barbwire fences.
Spike to the touch
maddened by the crush
splintered as if
the stem
of a rose
was placed upon a lily pad.
(which is me)
And that jousting
pinkish
purplish gem
(which is you).
I’m an idealist
slumped in a sleeping fancy
bedside warm sleep
comes over me
like the sweet peace of Jesus
(or a song
by Bob Dylan).
About this entry
You’re currently reading “The Pigskin Boxing Glove vs. Champion Idealist,” an entry on JR Finlayson
- Published:
- October 13, 2008 / 4:55 am
- Category:
- buffalo, jeff finlayson, poetry
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