The Life And Tiempos Of A Small Time Crook

I tie a knot into a knot.
The blue sky spills its clouds
and the clouds spill their rain. I take cover.

The stingy Indian at the convenient store
gives me the wrong change.
His dotted wife barks Indian atrocities.

But I concur because the cow is sacred
to my bowl of cereal.
I pull the trigger on my watergun. Blast them.

Its orangeness reflected in your eyes when I get home.
The knots would make a bumpy snake.
Every God gave Eve big boobs blurts my Tourette.

In the alleys of paradise
I met a man who owned my face and yours
and he wouldn’t sell them to me. So I robbed him, too.

To my surprise, you didn’t care.
I levitated over and over again
until my feet refused the floor for you.