most attention spans are actually pigeons.
most poems are wolverines.
wolverines & underpants.
& freshly showered armpit chicken.
(depending on the sense percepted; presupposing that
sombrero is a broken toothbrush once you
realize that bricks & breasts & broth are different.)
saying lazy morning zees
each easy-tonguing lipsmack grape juice laughter
soft as toilet paper trees. casually denial causes us to think
we be more clever than we often seem to yawn out fetishistic
manifesti so we orange cone ourselves perpetual, immobile
in an unfamiliar bed the morning after cigarettes
& the broken ceiling fan that rattles
& the wolverines.
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jim d. deuchars, who currently resides in pittsburgh, pa, writes poetry that has been described as, “a special brand of nonsense, doggerel and fufaraw.”
Rusty Truck 