court date


court date
by nicholas morgan
i wrapped the bubble wrap helmet around
part of my neck & arms
& put on my blood stained wife beater t-shirt
i put my black nylons on with holes in them
& my gigantic broken jock strap over them
i put on my size 14 clown shoes
& painted my nails with tuna sauce
i cut a hefty bag in half wrapping it around my waste
with a big roll of duct tape slapped around it
& I put on my mustard colored bow tie
painting my beard white, put on my homeless looking
tattered up black cowboy hat that said
“Fuck you” on it
i smeared lipstick all over my eyebrows
& knocked a few more of my front teeth out
with a quick smack to the face with my whiskey bottle
blood drooled down my chin
& I rubbed some lettuce into it
chunks of dried up moldy mayonnaise
& cheese fell from my greasy hair
that stuck up in all directions
my ears painted green,
my nose bloated like a drunkard
a gigantic sticker plastered over my forehead
that said
“I’m Elvis”
i shoved a finger up my nose
with my cross eyed expression
the cab pulled up to the front
of my Memphis hotel
“where to Mr.?” the cab driver asked,
nodding his head in disgust
“dah court house sir.” I said, pulling a booger from my nose,
grinning at the sun

0 thoughts on “court date

  1. Editor, great pics lately! ..glad to see the H&H mascot pic back on headliner.. came back on same day Parthasarathy’s ‘Dada’ poem posted, right?
    Anyway, this poem by Mr. N. Morgan (no relation to Captain Morgan [possibly induced by] or Morgan Freeman[possibly seduced by]), really blew me away with descriptive images of apparent rebellionism. We can only assume with the title being ‘Court Date’ that the anti-hero of the tale has done something to warrant an appearence whether it be traffic violation, drugs, sex with a sheep, all 3, or whatever…we don’t know exactly…that’s part of the pull of the poem is that unknowing where the author can focus on one aspect, his appearence, befor this event goes down.
    The character has got juicy a lot of attitude which you need to really buck the system…from the ‘fuck you’ hat and ‘i’m Elvis’ bumpersticker on the forehead you can tell this guy is gearing up for judicial ragnarok, a proponent of anarchy, free will, and classic “Get outta my sun!” Diogenetic cynicism. STATEMENT MADE! It makes me wonder what the judge said, and if the gigantic jock strap was broke in the elastic or had a cracked cup? Anyway you cut it, this poem’s got balls. Keep it up!

  2. I’d forgotten that not everyone uses Mozilla, so we fixed the site for you IE/Safari users. This poem was lost and aged in the inbox for over a year. I stumbled upon it yesterday while sifting through the forgotten areas. Quite startling and imaginative.

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