from the Library of the Rejected

it’s not far away; just up the street somewhere

between Carmella's Italian sausage exhibition

and Alphonso's diner, where horrific cutlery

is displayed without concern for the safety of the kids.

it’s my responsibility to express myself or otherwise

keep my mouth shut.

literarily, I place myself in different circumstances

sometimes with people who are mostly incorrigible

due to their lawlessness and a lack of decency, who

roam the Earth like ghosts bemoaning their stations.

I breathe life into their lungs, dress them in guilt

and sometimes kill them depending upon personal interests.

for example: Manson disciple Leslie Van Houten quietly

departed my apartment during the early morning hours

due to my inability to form a positive opinion on the La Bianca twins.

so come on down to the Library of the Rejected and...

bring the little ones why doncha.