The Badger is the thirteenth astrological sign.
My sign. The one the other signs evicted: unanimously.
So what?! Think I want to read about my future
in the newspaper next to the comics?
My third grade teacher told me I had no future.
I run through snow and turn around
just to make sure I've got a past.
My life's a chandelier dropped from an airplane.
I graduated first in my class from alibi school.
There ought to be a healthy family cage at the zoo,
or an open field, where I can lose my mother
as many times as I need.
When I get bored, I call the cops, tell them
there's a pervert peeking in my windows!
then I slip on a flimsy nightgown, go outside,
press my face against the glass and wait . . .
This makes me proud to be an American
where drunk drivers ought to wear necklaces
made from the spines of children they've run over.
I remember my face being invented
through a windshield.
All the wounds stitched with horsehair
so the scars galloped across my forehead.
Questia, a part of Gale, Cengage Learning. www.questia.com
Publication information: Book title: The New Young American Poets:An Anthology. Contributors: Kevin Prufer - Editor. Publisher: Southern Illinois University Press. Place of publication: Carbondale, IL. Publication year: 2000. Page number: 99.
This material is protected by copyright and, with the exception of fair use, may not be further copied, distributed or transmitted in any form or by any means.