"MY ITCHES HAVE LEGS" (And Minds Of Their Own)

“My ITCHES HAVE LEGS”

(And Minds Of Their Own)

　

What if I said

That the sun

Was a dyslexic ball

Of thermodynamic energy

 

Simply waiting for us

To consume its vanilla custard

Dripping acidic culture

Into the valleys of my chi

 

Snow is my favorite variety

Of tartar sauce inevitabilities

Much more cruelly sadistic

When played like the balls

At our local bowling alley

 

The stars are broken

And sniffing their own scent

Their noses wide open

Filled with narcissism

(yet pleasurable)

Venues of utter distraction

　

The cusp of utter lunacy

Is a simple barbiturate away

Sold at your local drug store

By a fat man who NEVER

Has been laid

(You figure it out)

　

　If I stuck my tongue out

Would the razor sharp rain

Destroy the acidic values

Of my predisposed religion?

 

Does this even remotely

Ring a bell in your

Postmodern Freudian superego?

Id?

Ego?

(Lost you again haven’t I?)

 

My girl left me crying

Then bequeathed the bittersweet

Responsibility of memory

 

Why must I hold onto

The dusty, dim fuzziness

Of our pre-medicated

Sex addicted fantasy?

 

Don’t I have enough of my own?

Sigh

 

Is the wet tepid energy

That you left like garbage

Worth snorting a bag full

Of funk addicted misery?

 

Ding Dong!

The WITCH is dead

At least to my pez dispenser

(frailties)

 

August flew by

With unbearable warm toxicants

 

The lion sleeps in winter

But who on earth

Is going to knock

On the self loathing

B*****D’S

Door?

 

I feel lonely

And damn near

COLD

 

I suppose

PERSIAN

Is the best flavor

Of death

　

Kenny L. Mitchell

February 23, 2010

　

　

　

　

　

　

Reviews

[DBURKE]

That URBAN spoken word_ you nailed it then nailed it again! What a very creative, colorful, imaginative, and thought provoking poem you have here. I felt as if you took me in and out of misery, natural existance of man and earth, and self pity! Great, great poem!!!!

[Lola Nation]

Great stream...

[Pax Analog]

Actually, I find this piece inversely lucid. Rather like an instinct for the surreal entrails beneath the surface of every over-rationalized transaction.

It's a verbal martial art of throwing bullshit OFF, a kind of antimatter rhetoric that leaves the poet w/more inner space -- and the reader too, if said reader knows reality is a constant gloss over madness, and that acknowledging that improvisationally is ironic sanity.

[emmajoy]

Off and off and away on my ... such a flight of fancy but dripping with hidden meanings .. not quite sane but clear enough to be shared!

Could still hear this ringing in my ears after reading it aloud twice .. it has distinct musicality and a thumping stride all of its own ..

'Why must I hold onto.. The dusty, dim fuzziness.. Of our pre-medicated..
Sex addicted fantasy?

Some lines have their own pains, others sing a soft song .. loved it all!

[Ms. Gruye]

aw, this piece was fun and thoughtful. That's a tough combo to pull off. I liked the non-sensical way you made bold statements. Here's my favorite example:

The cusp of utter lunacy
Is a simple barbiturate away
Sold at your local drug store
By a fat man who NEVER
Has been laid
(You figure it out)

the sing-song (lyrical) quality of those lines is golden.
Stay golden, my friend

[charlotte talley]

kenny this is good. you can put your words to good use. I ike it.

[cest la vie]

Now where the hell did this come from? Oh I know..that secret cellar where you keep all of the rawness of your mind.. This is fecken brilliant Kenny-San.. At first glance one would say oh my, what the heck? Read it through, out-loud and it's magnificent..

[Fabian G. Franklin]

If Sol is the sun and Sol is dyslexic; doesn't that leave us at a "los"? lol This was like dreams I have when I eat spicy foods before bed...it left me wondering why I would try to make sense out of dreams.

[Mark]

This is a guy whose mind has slipped its moorings, I'm thinking, both in remorse at his GF's departure, and the substance abuse he first engaged in and later questioned as a means of blunting that pain. Liked the image of that wet, tepid energy, and the self-analysis of asking whether her dpearted ghost warranted his slow self-destruction by barbs and coke--hopefully, he will conclude not! A tough one to work out, K, fershurr, but so are the feelings following an aborted relationship, so in that sense, the poem was wholly apropos!

[J.P. Bristow]

It started out as the most delicious nonsense poem---I loved it and then drifted into slam poetry---however the last stanza just didn't work for me??? But if you are going for true nonsense verse then Lewis Caroll and Dr. Suess would definately be intrigued by you!!!