Sunbow

Its quite something to
  be a cigarette out a car
    window, a sunny orange with
  scratch to burn into a 
    bouquet of wilting sparks; its
  impressive, like bedbugs
    and harakiri sex, there's real 
      gumption in these people,
          real backbone.
  After all, if you're one to
    forsake the elevator for the 
      stairs, you don't get pushed,
          you jump.
  Isn't it romantic?

Don't you just picture
  the English marching? I mean 
    their costumes are already in
      red. Last week I saw 
  one of valor hurl bronzed 
    baby shoes thru a stained 
      glass window and oh my, 
  piquant sacrileges like that
    remind me of the longing 
      blue whales harbor for tin 
        balloons released in 
          squadrons. It takes a 
  true hero to understand its
    a halloween party out 
      there, we know all of 
        the people but 
              none of the masks. 

As for me, I don't even shave;
  Heights scare me and anyway
    I despise the theater. They 
  say its just a trip South but 
    I'm allergic to sulfur, better 
  men than me will have to take 
    the journey. Besides, I don't 
  wield the steely resolve needed
    to look myself in the 
      eyes beforehand like 
        modern convenience 
          demands. Its a shame,
    I know its only on that
      trip that legends can
        smith themselves out of 
            pure iron will and
              a pack of smokes.