Barbershop Protest

Aspen safety matchstick strikes protest signs within
ignites sulfur friction at paraffin combustion. Exclamation
points put across headstands dangling to the neck. Smoking
barrels sucks in oozing wafts in whiskey drink
down exhaust to the Glencairn glass.

Amber termites bend and break in
scraped sandpaper. Roughsawn feet faces
pavement, crowds cram catchphrases under fingernails. Rip
out teeth in drunken insects, chew on smoke
signals under rawhide flags stolen at masts. Breathe in
buffalo feathers and beads stuck at oyster tongue.

Calloused borders snap off scabs
at fingertipped bloody newspaper clipped.
Thumbtack sun to eyelids toothpicked, thirsty
nightsticks torch pepper gas constellations padlocked
to bike racks. Spoked shadows make
the moon. Snap to it.
Rubber quartet.


–Originally published by  The Rain, Party, & Disaster Society.  Vol. I, Issue IX: August 2014.


Next poem:  Breast-giver

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