slipping out of heaven

the rocks are throwing themselves
at me
I'm a monster
with one foot I'm slipping out of heaven
and with my other foot
I'm stumbling into hell

quickly grab my hand
hold on and pull me out of this death
the rocks are hoping to
crush me

© 2007 Jim Wittenberg

run, plastic grocery bag

run, plastic grocery bag run!
flee the tyranny of the painted parking space

run, plastic grocery bag run!
the wind aids your escape across the black pavement

run, plastic grocery bag run!
don't become enmeshed in that chain link fence

you'll hang screaming at the world

and who of us hears the screams
of a plastic grocery bag?

© 2007 Jim Wittenberg

Chicken barbecue (An absurd tale)

"How did that chicken get in your head and lay that massive egg?"

The doctor's question stunned me. I had an egg in my head? He took an x-ray. It confirmed the presence of an enormous chicken egg inside my cranium. It was destroying my brain.

"Get it out!" I shouted.

"We can't do that. We don't want to destroy the chicken fetus."

"We don't?"

"Just imagine how many people a chicken that big could feed."

I tried imagining it, but I couldn't. The egg was destroying my brain.

They kept my head in an incubator for a few days. When the chick hatched it was huge. When it was fully grown they butchered it and invited everyone who lived in the Sacramento city limits to a chicken barbecue. The leftovers fed the county.

And I've got a hole in my forehead too large to cover with a cowboy hat.

© 2007 Jim Wittenberg

happy

all of us can't be
happy

well, maybe
we can
but it would be pointless

we'd be stupid

and eventually we'd
be unhappy
again

© 2007 Jim Wittenberg