Footages.... Poem by RIC BASTASA

actually it is the same thing
that happens
over and over again
and i keep on watching
and watching
and if you only know there is no more
meaning
to what i constantly see and love and hate
and laugh
and cry for (how did i really learn
to cry? did i really cry?
i regret
i deny,
)

the footage of push and pull
and moans and groans
mechanical figures inside
these tubes

soon, i be a man transformed
from mere dirt to budding mushroom
fungus,
tasty, delicious to your palates
sliced thinly
on your favorite Hawaiian pizza

even the dirtiest
mind you always transforms itself
into a useful ornament
swallowed, savored
remembered