Wile E. Coyote’s Ultimatum

it’s a vitamin fortified oxymoron

life’s huge trifles day to day

resound like Grand Canyon echoes

just before we jump into the abyss

come back around to jump again,

like cartoon characters, emotionally flattened

each time, we scrape ourselves off the rock

and live to die again,

stronger till we use up the bottle of resolve,

and the druggist sees fit to close his shop.

God keeps odd hours

or is too drunk to read the prescriptions

because even he can’t stand, in sober state,

to see what we have become

i think i hear second hand voices

on the edge, feel the writers writing me

towards conclusion,

parachute thoughts feel buoyant

but i’m drop kicked before i can open them.

a wayward cartoon character being written out of the script—

free-falling festive fickle festoon

guffawing at sardonic captions

meep meep

meep meep.

erin-cilberto

11/9/o7