Iambic Knots

I am not these people, these attractive carnivorous caricatures dancing

operational fill her up all you can eat sitting back sipping each other at the getty

these walks down the promenade, these glasses of pink lemonade, these claustrophobic paragraphs, these naked pieces of furniture nobody is lounging, these numbers open 24-7 for

delivery, for discussion, for breeding purposes, for shock, for a change

for starters

I am not these indecipherable lines, these kinko lions, these two humped camels smoking

their stock, these complicated metaphors, these attractive contracts and entertainment magazines and chemical banks merging with euro-dollar-mark, these long rides in swaying shaky steel at 2 am, these double cheese burgers, these windows framing stores, these verbal boxing matches, these towering records or penny lanes, these circuit cities, these peppy boys, these good guys selling radio shacks

I am not these small room mantras, these half-eaten ear lobes, these armagaddon deep impact out of sight pulp loathing fears trying to save private ryan in rayon super size does matter painted buses and buildings now billboards like the rest of us

I am not these hands sprouting cigarettes, these marlboro men riding giant horses down

santa monica, these happy hour drink prices, these reoccurring long lines and dreamy sequences lasting as long as there is someone reading them

I am not these best seller novels these echoes of attention childhood neglect nearly

published, these guns and blanks and up stares trysts and matrices, these seductions, these high school reunions with those make-up artists and a well fabricated narrative with solo drives and suicides,

I am not these eaves drop conversations, these holiday sweaters on sale, these unlit

candles and mottoes with cheerleaders and ginsberg reflections and shadows

these talking shows with heads, these harnesses and plows with monopoly stasis

pictures of beer, these incomplete similes, these smiles around the world of war

I am not these parked alarms waiting to go off in a matter of time, long sleeved hugs

good buys, these smart two part episodes, these prequals and sequels, these recaps

and highlights, these pick-up lines or rainy next day bus rides home, these worn down black boots, these mud puddles of mystery water, these sports bars opened at 10 am, these eye contact situations from across the vague room, these rusted

anchors and dry spring wells, these gymnastics without bounce, these buy one get one free payment programs and expensive ass soldiers and neo-country music

I am not these 1-900 numbers, these artifacts these additives or preservatives, these

warning signs on the sides of boxes and street corners, these cd’s or matching

videos and tee-shirts, these saturday night dead comedian, these drive-bys and

drive-thrus, these red blood stains or these glasses of red wine, these leashes cages

lyrics limericks with bars and beautiful girls, these hands that want to hold each other in cold weather, these nostalgic contradictions blind ships at sea with cargo

wishing for import and atm, these expensive genes and tanked tops, these lemon

trees or these eager hands that pick them, these tinted glasses or silver pinky rings,

these back seat naps, these jogs along the borders of boredom, but

I am a live.