Detergented Potato
2006-01-11 - 12:52 p.m.

I contract my utensils
They just didn’t care
To finance their pleasures
And wash the same hair
Four robotic shovels
But none that compared
To Kleenex imbedded
In a gullible snare

Laundry needs doing
And the distance that flows
In a lobotomizing gaze
Will haunt the tomatoes
With a hubbub surrounding
Fortunate questioning toes
Buried in laundry detergent
That sprouts eggs in your nose

The only competition
Was looking quite green
Flapping her feathers
Juggling and marching
The question well minded
Looped largely obscene
And abstained from the crops
Fizzing, foaming like beans

Sprang up and took form
In the waxy ballroom beneath
Was a man carrying potatoes
And a disinfected wreath
He bounded and buried
His toes and his teeth
In the laundry detergent
Bought second hand from Keith

Who is Keith? Who on earth is Keith?

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