Poetry

When I put the refrigerator
in the cornfield
I only meant to cool noon down.
High sun is too hot for the snakes
and I couldn’t see ‘em at night.
Dr. Something-berg (a Jew, I think)
asks me about my penis.
I tell him it’s massive, big
as a house.  And how’s your
pussy, sir?
 
In the day room
Billy the Dummy records all
the conversations he has with me.
There is (I am sure) a small recorder
hidden in his left wrist
and disguised
as a well healed suicide
scar.  He doesn’t think
I know and so never suspects
I am always lying.
 
Annie is very fat
and always chewing
on something moist and loud.
I hate her, always
talking with her mouth
full.  And she distrusts me, too.
I never let her see me eat.
 
Mostly I just stare
out the large windows.  I try
to watch what’s really going
on.  Stop my shaking.  Control
my erections.  Be normal.