The Journey

Looking for the point of no re-
But hang on. My blinker’s on,
Telling me, of both ways, to veer

But in this dugout
Of serendipitous slaughter
With three miles until kaput

I can already feel
The apocryphal cactus
In the left cheek
Of my generous ass

Filling my essence
With square roots
Common denominators
Tremendous splinters

Of so many unique points
But not the one I was oodling
After when, over the loud speaker

‘whomp!– whomp!–’
Hang on.
I’ve hit another rock.

More like a Jurassic wall
Straight from The Flintstones
‘So much for airbags!’
Announces the caduceus miracle

As with the fly buzz
That is the running fart
Of American recycling
It’s only in 2020’s hindsight

Licking the fine-toothed print
Off the comb: the airbag
Aimed not to deploy

In other words, “a total dud”
For which you’ll have to dream up
Something else for (umm) your beddy-

bye pillow

Meanwhile, the dragon darted back
Into the secret hall of its hoard
And to its horror locked eyes
With Kermit the Frog

Alongside Casper the Friendly Ghost
I shall now not return to speak
More about Grendel
Seeing how the mirage

Is shuffling back off to Vegas
Leaving me with one dark nimbus
In the shape of Uncle Sam dealing me

The fuckin’ flick of his middle finger