from Cease and Assist
We generally spend this time of year sneezing // stacking hay.
See the paternal pennyweight of pinewood condescension.
See Guy caterwauling
Atop a religiously lubricated 50cc motorbike, sucking tusks of twizzlers.
Or myself, on the corner soap
Box, monologuing somersaults in my underpants.
The rapt audience of tin can empties
File out unapologetic in the monolithic breeze.
“I will fistfight any man who attempts to catch this garter,” I says.
I says, “I simply do not know what that means,”
Before striking out at everything
Within a fifty-mile blast radius then quietly falling a
Sleep. Lost in his clothes, Guy dismounts on the chalky hardpan,
Begins scarfing grimgrams behemoth goulash plate.
Michael Lambert is author of Circumnavigation, (Red Bird Chapbooks, 2014), loosely based on self-propelled travel in North America. Recent work has appeared in Bayou Magazine, Timber Journal, and Midwestern Gothic. A graduate of the University of Alabama's M.F.A. program in creative writing, he lives and works in Wisconsin. Photo by Lambert.