PRODIGIOUSLY by Jay Passer

bring me my wheelchair
i'ma bout to birth the beast.

whose logic
refutes the results,
whose clouds
obscure oil spills?

they are mine, i'm telling you
i never dressed up like a lion.

it's instantaneous,
the conflagrations
planted worldwide
in strategic locations.

so i wheel about like a champion;
they even put my likeness
on cereal boxes.

children read me,
penguins,
automatons in store windows,
nascent AI.

raise my fist for me,
first squeeze
my hand
into the badger-pelt glove;
i count on my friends the ravens
to lift me
to great heights.

i don't pontificate to my subjects
since i remain
frigid within
the contents of their stomachs.

Ash Wednesday with the Sabbath
on the back burner,
side order
of idolatry.

i'ma speed demon on a quest for infinitude,
no time for
pit-stops or
drive-thru,
with the heart of a hummingbird

i thread the eye.

bring me my quart of whiskey
uranium
or insecticide;
i refuse disqualification.

 

 

 

 

 

 Jay Passer's work has appeared in print and online since 1988. Author of 13 poetry and prose collections, he is widely published digitally, most recently in Don't Submit!, Horror Sleaze Trash, Lothlorien Poetry Journal, Fixator Press, and Piker Press. He's been employed as a dishwasher, barista, cook, warehouseman, courier, house painter, pet sitter and mortuary apprentice. Passer lives and works in San Francisco, the city of his birth.