Chicano Poet

Wednesday, June 01, 2005

The End Of The Oit

Quite unexpectedly by Vasserot
the world had blowed up.
A black hole in the antlers

was sucking everything down into it,
photons refused to go,
they held on tight

with their fingernails dug
into the enamel of the toilet bowl.
Archibald’s blown-glass face

cried as the Library of Congress
became ticker tape and then nothing.
Rocky circled overhead,

Sherman looked at Professor Peabody---
they yanked the lever down on the machine
just in time to save

all the chicano poetry ever written.
Every other piece of great literature
was gone.

Every one glared at the moose
and all they could say was,
“Gee, thanks, Bullwinkle!”

Bullwinkle fumbled with his coattails
like Oliver Hardy
fumbled with his tie.

The Waybac machine
had a wedgie
from fighting the black hole.


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