Poetry: Selections From Scott Taylor

co-existence

 

there's something disturbing

about killing a june bug.

they don't sting

and don't look particularly menacing

have almost a limited kind of intelligence too

if you swing at them, they duck out for a while

and hide behind the TV

or under the table until things have blown over.

but they buzz loudly

and will occasionally get confused

do fly-bys

zipping by your head

until you are irritated enough

to go find the fly swatter.

they have hard shells

like little plastic sacks

and don't die easily.

and when one is lying on his back

on the carpet

legs waving in futile rhythm

after being struck down

he always looks questioning

lying there

helpless and dazed

and that makes

two of us.

wonder why 

i did that. 

he is crippled

and there is nothing i can do now

so the best thing

is to get a paper towel

and put him down for good.

but we have been snuffing each other out

for centuries now

one more

in a series

slide

cut short

so i guess i shouldn't feel

alone

or

wrong

at least

not past

tonite.

 

 

 

wisdom

 

don't pet the dog

(will alarm the owners)

don't smile at the child

(will provoke parental defense)

don't reveal too much in conversation

(will make conservatives uneasy)

don't laugh too loud

(will irritate the people at the next table)

don't sing in public

(will alert the powers to emotional anomaly)

keep your distance,

keep your mouth shut,

pay your taxes,

stay incognito,

bottle your pleasures,

never drop your pants

and turn the lights off

when you leave the room.

 

 

 

BUST ‘EM IN THE MOUTH!

 

BOOM!!!

i smacked him in the mouth.

he smacked me back.

nature a' laughed and laughed.

tis the way of the world to have leopards jump on impalas

and big fish eat littler ones

and grown men beat the shit out of each other

on friday night

for the sake of entertainment.

what are we to do, the bear fathers

kill their sons

and female spiders eat their hubbies

and praying mantises rip the heads

off their loved ones

in the name of

instinct.

and the aggressive and murderers

have a leg up

on the sane

because nature

ain't sane

and the rules of morality

were written by

vulnerable monks

nursing their wine

sitting in protective towers

and there really is no

point in arguing.

you can side with

whomever you want

to

      no

            avail.

mother nature

was a byatch prize-fighter

with brass knuckles under

her green mittens

until we KOed her ignorant ass

once and for all

with a couple hundred billion

acres of

blacktop,

but at least

we still have

the title fights

to watch

on the tube.

 

 

 

 

 

Scott Taylor hails from Raleigh, North Carolina. He is a writer and a musician, and an avid world traveler. His short stories and poetry have appeared in numerous print and online publications, including Vast Chasm, Adelaide Literary, Unlikely Stories, Literary Hatchet and Swifts and Slows. His novels 'Chasing Your Tail' and 'Screwed' have been released with Silver Bow Publishing, and his novellas 'Freak' and 'Ernie and the Golden Egg' are slated for inclusion in an upcoming anthology with Running Wild Press. He graduated from Cornell University and was a computer programmer in a past life.

 

 

 

Popular Posts