Friday, August 05, 2005

Butterfly, why can't I?



Hey kids,

Uncle Jimmy's here today to share some more of my prose. It wasn't always easy for me to open up like this. BLUE 45! I found myself face down in the gutter one day, a needle hanging out of my arm, my groin regions pulsing with advanced symptoms of syphylis and trouser crickets - and wiping the dirt from my red sweater vest I said, "Jimbo you can't live like this anymore! You can't hold it all in like this!." After four hours of crying into the arms of a hooker named One Tit Mary I wrote "Will there ever be a Rainbow?" That poem was about rebirth and shit. This mother fucker is about butterflies and healing:


Butterfly, why can't I?

through the sky
oh, oh so high
with your wings
and antennae things
sometimes I pull off your wing
rub it on my ding-a-ling
then I cry,
then I cry,
then I cry,
then I cry,

Butterfly, why can't I?

1 Comments:

Anonymous lou holtz said...

butterflies are for pussies! best rekognize unicorns are the shizny, son>

8:44 AM  

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