Two Poems by Chad Smith
Tuesdays with Bono
Park bench in San Rafael Bono and I sit talking A warm day Comparing our knuckles Both hairy like my grandfather's He tells me he uses One password for all his accounts There are more important things To think about Than one hundred different passwords You can't do that I say They could steal your identity They can have it Bono says If someone like you can use My name in a poem Then I am stolen already Someone like me? I ask Louie Calls an AudibleI don't want them to know that I am talking about them Let's change our names Call me Peter Saying you fucking hate them is pretty drastic don't you think Peter? Maybe I should take out the fucking I am just so tired of everybody mumbling Maybe they're not mumbling Maybe your ears are mumbling Humbling No longer able to hear it straight He fell off the back of the picnic table Panicked Slapped at his head Hit his ear Wailed Fell into some bushes Smacked the tree Faster than we had ever seen him move Thought a yellow jacket had crawled into his ear Funny how we think something is funny until it's not He wasn't sure but he thought he heard her say If you keep them waiting long enough They won't care when they get to the end I watched the movie as a kid They tied them down and made crawdads like aliens Crawl into their ears Into their brains Why do we do anything as kids? He wanted to crawl into her pants Maybe she had said she was tired of everything She was kissing his ear Licking Wet Tonguing his brain
Chad Smith is a poet/writer living with his family in Portland, Oregon. He often embarks on explorations in mouse clicking, video production, new-media dabbling, design, and illustration. His work has appeared in Red Fez, on the WordPlaySound podcast, and in other locations online. He once blogged at jacknoodle.com.
© 2013, Metazen.