tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21112460.post-46413461384857932122008-03-12T13:49:00.000-05:002008-03-12T13:51:12.890-05:00<span style="font-weight:bold;">Mindy the Famous Divebomber Visits the Thrift Store We All Care For</span><br /><br />Mindy the famous divebomber<br />took her blazer to very sincere<br />dry cleaners. Then things began to<br />snow, of course, which made her<br />stalwart. She went to the thrift<br />store to buy a hooded blazer.<br />Shut up. I know they don't. It's<br />a poem. Mindy, the divebomber,<br />cavorts, digs among the Slim Jim<br />30th Anniversary t-shirts and<br />pleated trousers, wigs and old men<br />thumbing the gunslinger pulp.<br />Did you know Egyptians invented<br />paper? I am a public education system.<br />Did you know we are run mostly by<br />hospitals? Mindy digs past Mother of<br />Ketchup and Macaroni Salad who<br />dances a little in a swell dress.<br />See? We are fine, after all.<br />Her child is not quite convinced.<br />Where are all the lights? Why are you<br />apologizing? I want a hooded blazer.<br />Mindy, the famous divebomber, situation<br />mingle, high alert. Where is your chute<br />of rockabilly gumption? A soldier never<br />lies, famous Mindy. Who do you get to<br />die on? Yes, in an ill-fitted blazer. But<br />it's only fifty cents. The transaction<br />is witnessed by a tour group.<br />They are up in arms, giggles.<br />They are here to define us.<br /><br /><br /><br /><span style="font-weight:bold;">Don't Wake Up It's Just Me</span><br /><br />If I know exactly what you mean,<br />will we both fit on the motorcycle?<br />If I say streetlight, will you say<br />half-in, half-out? If I say pumpkin stew<br />will you say ghost flesh? Writ large and<br />quivering on a blimp, beep beep, the<br />antithesis of confession. I want to<br />advertise. I want you to come in and<br />sip, sit, scorn with me. Do stillwater<br />strokes and will the knuckles to pop.<br />Wait, I know exactly what you mean.<br />Let's try out tender vessels: they're<br />on sale. Join to the point of collapse<br />into. Accordion honk flesh. Oh. Oh.<br />If I say streetlight, you say back in.<br />And if I say dumpster diving, you say<br />chocolate factory. If I know exactly<br />when to wake up, you know how to stay<br />nervous, somewhere else, breathing, mum-<br />bling. Is this a trick? What game do you win<br />with trust? The word okay is like skydiving.<br />If I say swingset, will you make it rain?<br /><br /><br /><br /><span style="font-weight:bold;">Mike Young</span> co-edits <span style="font-style:italic;"><a href="http://www.noojournal.com">NOÖ Journal</a></span>, a literary/political magazine. His poetry, fiction and criticism have appeared in <span style="font-style:italic;">MiPOesias, elimae, CutBank, BlazeVOX, Juked, 3AM Magazine</span> and many others. He likes to take three trains at a time and plenty of citrus drugs.RealPoetikhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14919138604759914372noreply@blogger.com