carbonated persiflage

to drink one’s fill of trash and scorn
in carbonated persiflage
is like a bit of bantering
inside a trippy motor lodge
with everyone you’ve ever met
and some few you don’t know —
it may not sound like much, but still,
just go.

to spend your life in waste and want
and elevated camouflage
is just a form of muttering,
like mumbling in decoupage:
you’d maybe do it on a bet
or just to take a blow —
it may sound foolish, and it is,
but go.

for though the paint gets everywhere
is worth the time to spatter
and if we waste our energy,
how can it really matter?
it’s all a kind of allemande,
a ritual, a rite:
so some small bit of foolishness
might bring a few

some light

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