Tuesday, August 16, 2005

this was published in "the writer's hood" anyone that ever had their property reassessed for school tax purposes or filled out an application to work in any type of government job, or looked for a loan of any kind, well, you understand.


government forms & # 2 pencils

and here i sit staring, another form
tiny print and
little rectangular boxes
please use # 2 pencil and fill in completely, so
much like the SAT'S from my
high school days, nothing's changed,
not really
and then it just comes to me, i am just
caught up in the stupidity of it all

race, a box for it, well, no more boxes for
me, i'm gonna give 'em a form, oh!

race, well sir, since dale sr. died all they are is
a bunch of rednecks driving fast and turning left, ha! i
print in tiny # 2 penciled letters

sex, ah, there's a question,
as often and as varied as possible, and wouldn't you like
to know all about the 3 midgets that bring a big
jar of creamy smooth peanut butter with them, it's hell getting
peanut butter off my walls, my floors
my, nevermind!
the farm animals?
send another form.

what style house, year built, rooms?

1950's brick ranch, 8 rooms all painted primary colors,
like in a crayon box, and while we
are on the subject, just
so you know, i have spent many hours
trying to answer the question,
"if you were a crayon, what color would you be?" sometimes i can lose whole
DAYS on that one!

religion, oh god.
shall i scribble on? yes,
they asked.
eclectic. go earn your pay figuring that one out!
let's just say that while all
the holier than thou's, the ones with all the answers are
fenced off with
their own kind in the afterlife, bleating like
sheep, i will be
dancing with dragons and druids, having tea with the buddha
and writing down a date for a late supper with jesus
(using pen with purple ink, all the # 2 pencils be fueling the fires of hell,
for government clerks like you ) and god, i HOPE he's not serving fish again!

then the cramp in my
fingers brings me round, but
i haven't filled in one damn box, not one, unless
you count the graphite smears on the page, the
form,is filled with my block printing
both sides, there are # 2 smudges
on my forehead from pushing sweaty bangs away, but
not one filled box i'm proud to see!

and as i poke around my desk for
a stamp to mail
this epic in sarcasm and # 2 pencil, i
look around and say out loud to no one
but myself and the cat.
" fuck 'em if they can't take a joke!"



No comments: