Didactic Allegory, With Pettiness

Holly Raymond

Do you remember
in like 2012, I guess,
that thing that came out
about the poets,
“comfortable and/or rich”?

Well, I remember this guy I knew
whose name was on there
I liked him a lot,
walking around all day,
happy and industrious
in corduroy pants,
whistling unless I'm imagining the whistling,
and I, all the time afterwards
wanting to say hey man,
give me twenty
fucking dollars right now
why not

I know you can I know
you wouldn’t even feel it going

then, every day, sunshine, autumn, quietness,
him going his own brilliant way,
me lying dead from cannon fire in the grass
all my garbage parts dewy with red goo
and my thumbs doing thumbs-ups to the severed air
and twenty dollars in my teeth--

him somewhere on the blinking earth
paying for his own coffee,
or else me on the blinking earth
paying for mine
This takes place during the brief period when everyone in Philadelphia was reading The Grand Piano for some reason.