Wilbur Wood

I’m like

throwin’ fuckin’ junk

scraping the sides of the plate

fluttering across broken winged

accumulating insults

& lounging in stale air

I’m the junkballer

& from a few feet away

I look easy to hit

but, friend, understand

that the shit explodes

BOOM!

& it sure as hell ain’t where you thought it’d be

when you started that swing

& yr fury fans the air impotent

while my junk falls behind you, immaculate

from Spiel In the Face of Those Who Wish You Ill

written 1999