Bohemian Rhapsody

The dishes in the sink are growing weeds
so I’m blogging about Gaza
The money’s falling out of my wallet
so here’s a little news about actors

The trees are full of longhorn beetles
and I swear I love the smell of my old socks
The smoke eater’s out of commission
and my head’s wearing headphones without me
The ferret needs to come out and play
so I’m sitting with a book near the window
and contemplating jazz as God-metaphor

I stick freeware in my ears
so I don’t hear the doorbell
There’s a lottery ticket lungfish crawling on the dirty kitchen floor
looking for the next pool to enter

There are a lot of global evils to vanquish today
They’re making me hungry for a perfect cheese
served with a microbrew
on an overdone gas bill
I’ll eat it with relish
while nodding off to classic rock
in an assuredly postmodern sort of way
while wading in shallows
deep enough to drown in