Green and red, metalic dandruff purpusfully placed
uncles telling stories of how george bush cost them thier jobs
an unknown relative sitting uncomfortably close
asking you questions about school, your views,
on socialized medicine
uneasy from the attention, the false sense of interest
grandstanding questions at the table from the new in law,
like a rookie sports reporter droping names to show knowledge
adding nothing to the clarification of the question
I am not sure if there is a question in there
Deracinate my thoughts from thier comfortable landing zone
under the glowing pine tree that underwent a similar experience
re-plant them in the unstable slope of the closing darkness
the windowless room, cold, damp, shrinking
the taste of rust and the forshadow of regret
Evil will be done tonight, no one in the room will know or suspect a thing
geleton seeps from mouths corners, ediquite has been forgotten
or possibly never learned
Chew with your mouth closed, be patient, listen
saliva slapping against banana and cheek
Maybe uncle joe can tell what I am planning
he always seemed to know what I was about to do,
like he could forsee it
As if he could read my mind through my eyes,
he is looking at me.
think about turkey, think about turkey, think about turkey.
deracinate \dee-RAS-uh-nayt\, transitive verb:
1. To pluck up by the roots; to uproot.
2. To displace from one's native or accustomed environment.
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