what's goin on

I am sitting out back battling ants
I am writing my paper is glowing I am sizzling
from the kansas heat
and I am listening to a band called Sublime.

My hair feels like hot asphalt
my God deliver me
there is a brown bottle of Budweiser
in the cupholder
little buds of water

little buds of water sit on their ass on the glass
a semi drives proudly--with excellent posture--
by, with a minivan chasing it
looking like the small dog that follows
the big bulldog
on cartoons
I laugh
at myself
I must
be
getting
drunk
Oh
what a great band
this Sublime.

I'm one a the wierd ones
I'm one a the wierd ones who at work
everyone thinks of as a little off
cuz I write poetry
I have to urinate

I play with da styles und da form Some people
unfortunately think
poetry's all about the stucture--

I had a roomate who knew everything about everything
and he said this book of poetry she wrote
was structured beautifully.

I don't know anything about that.
Shit,
I'll admit when I don't know what
the hell's goin on.