my seven hours as a door to door vacuum cleaner salesman
shake a stick
throw a jab
sodomize a garbage can.
peel an orange
lop off your foot with a banjo
play the cymbal with your penis.
wear a suit of baloney
snorkel on a gravel road
read a biography of michael jackson.
buy a 56inch sony flat-screen
bury it in your back yard.
start an email petition
to save the yeti.
sponsor your toaster
in a 5k run
to raise money
for chicken-pox research.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
four months buy valtrex in australia down the road
that night
we both laughed
as she put a cigarette out
in my hand
while i fucked her up the ass
in the i-hop bathroom
a few hours
after meeting in a bar.
four months down the road
she turned up
as my mother's roommate
in rehab.
now either
she didn't recognize me
or she was putting on a good show.
i'm not sure.
but my money says
she was so spun out on dope
at the time
she honestly
didn't remember any of it.
which makes me a-lot less
proud of myself
for being able to pull a chick out of a bar
and fuck her up the ass
in the i-hop restroom
but paradoxically
much more fond
of this fly-shaped scar
three inches south
of the big knuckle
on my right hand.
* Justin Hyde lives in Iowa, where he works with criminals for
a living. More of his published work can be found at www.nyqpoets.net/poet/justinhyde
