It's like that 
The boy in 
The balloon 
Supposed to
Be trapped 
Is not actually
There the bal-
loon touches
Down the F.B.I
Are there we
All are rapt 
By this spectacle.
It's like that the 
Boy supposed to 
Be secreted in 
The weather balloon 
Is not there when
The balloon touches 
Down our sense of
The real is like 
That buoyed by
Our attention.
It's like that 
The boy in the
Weather balloon 
Not actually there
When the balloon 
Touches down is
Mistaken for 
Reality the media 
Secretes attention
Like it was reality 
This is how we 
Will have been 
Seen through
History's eyes
Hopefully.
It's like that 
There're eyes where
The head should have
Been there's a boy
In a balloon that
Is barely there that
Is almost a meme
Where we touch 
Down doing the 
Imaginary American 
Thing again while
Wars go on
Elsewhere while
Hardship is all
One actually feels.
Fuck that balloon boy
And that balloon fucking 
Dad their faces are not 
Real in the real sunshine
Of national discourse 
Hovering like an unidentified
Flying object something 
Even more mythical 
Dreaming of potential.
Fuck that balloon boy 
Who didn't really climb 
Into the balloon whose
Father was a motherfucker
Whose mother was a 
Fox News victim like I want 
To see a U.F.O. anyway
This is a poem for my 
Friend Brandon Brown.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
No comments:
Post a Comment