why?:
after salvaging a good but rotting wood bass guitar
on a late night trip to the city dump,
the man with the dirty disco twelve inch hands
got in his light blue van,
and heading to the school dance,
he noticed cold water creeping up the cuffs of his pants.
he swerved to dodge two people
planting flowers in the middle of the on-ramp.
and as the water level in the van, it began to rise,
he attributed the water to the bass guitar.
(and that's probably why it was in the trash in the first place).
and as the water got to the bottom of his ribcage,
he thought about his laundry in the back
and the brand new dressed shirt
and how the water'd sog the start right out of the collar.
he probably should have pulled right over to the shoulder
but he was late for the dance,
and he couldn't reach the bass from where he sat
to throw it out the window.
he was five minutes from where the function was
and he could hold his breath for two or so minutes if he must.
andrew broder:
brand new skinny ghost,
meet your brand new angel monster
microwave, meet your maker.
"i don't trust tall dudes as far as i can throw 'em--that isn't far...
but if i could, i'd throw 'em head first into the ground like a javelin...
and leave 'em there:
feet protruding out of the dirt like his headstone...
"here lies tall dude."