Chipmunk Squirrel Costume Party

In a black forest, God is birthing a beautiful
cocker spaniel named Corky. The sun
has set. Evil rests its wings through distant
wires, which are not so distant after all.
A boy jams a spoon into a tree. His family
is fighting about world politics again.

In a black city, God is birthing a beautiful
cocker spaniel named Corky! The sun
has set? Evil rests its wings through distant
pines, which are not so distant after all!?
¡A boy jams a spoon into a mouth! His family
is fighting about world politics again!!!

In a poem, Tanikawa Shuntaro lies
under a quilt with the woman he loves,
with a woman who is in love with another man.
Next door, God is birthing a beautiful
cocker spaniel named Corky. The sun
has set. Evil rests its wings through distant

prairies, which are not so distant after all.
A boy jams a spoon into an eel. His family
is fighting about world politics again.
In Santa Monica, I accidentally bleed myself
with a razor. God is birthing a beautiful cocker
spaniel named Corky in the back of an Escalade.

Evil rests its wings through distant hills
which are not so distant after all. A boy
jams a spoon into a silicone breast. His family
is fighting about world politics, again?
Because we break apart, I consult the eight
ball: outlook not so good, says it.

In Mexico City, God is birthing a beautiful
cocker etcetera. Corky places glasses
on his tail and loses thousands of dollars,
infuriating God and the family. A boy jams
a spoon into a bowl of Corn Flakes and evil
rests its wings distantly, but then, not so.

I am wet and in Zócalo standing, wacky adventure
having, surrounded by gray architecture.
Evil is all around. A boy will bike
toward a lake with a girl he will love forever.
In a black city, God is birthing a beautiful
cocker spaniel named Corky. Evil

moves its wings through distant pines, which
are not so distant, it seems. In a black forest,
God is birthing a beautiful cocker spaniel
named Corky. It is gray, yet not so. Evil
shifts its wings through distant wires, which are not
so distant. A boy jams a spoon into a fire.

His mother is inside-out again. So, the son
of the devil will rise from the world of politics.
I am Federal Expressing my lungs to everywhere.
Dear Mom, have you received my blood? It only
recently appeared from under a pile of forests,
from under a pile of black, black forests.

Copyright © 2007 Jason Bredle All rights reserved
from The National Poetry Review
Reprinted by Verse Daily® with permission