bad juju

bad juju
by cerebellas

chopping down trees
ones i’ve just climbed down

don’t like to miss the target
of sturdy things to talk about

had all these women
never knew what they were about.

never bothered to try
to figure all that children shit out.

my truck is red. sure remember
the seventies like yesterday.

did you know i hitched across
the entirety of the states?

would you even know
tear gas ain’t so bad?

recently welcomed in new friends
but the sky turned on me

stars turned out to be come-ons
the same ol’ shit, once again:

low planes, little men,
little bullets

little guns

they think they knew
all along-

that i’m all hungry; a real sap.
but i’ve got venison in the back.

so chop ’em down, chop ’em down,
chop ’em down.

2 thoughts on “bad juju

  1. Good. An edgy, mistrustful, but “hungry” life strung out among several relationships that all collapse, imaged as trees one climbs up and comes down from, nothing “sturdy” one chooses to “chop down” once one reaches the ground. But where is that ground and how sturdy is it? Freaky, scary, even more so for being defined.

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