Thursday, December 26, 2019

Johnny, Get Your Gun!

When another person is preying on your mind,
because you’re mad at each other,
you can be sure you’re preying on their mind
too. Rotten eggs and watermelon rinds
filling interpsychic aether:
that's what having someone preying on your mind
is like. Sooner or later, you find
you have to turn off the channel,
because a fuzzy white-gauze bandage is smothering your mind
cawing, preaching monologues playing inside
the bandage—panel
of pontificating heads yelling in your mind.
Hey you, on the other side of this Maginot Line—
my likeness, my only friend—
let me be assured that I’m preying on your mind
same as you’re preying on mine—
knowing we’re just going to have to yodel it over again:
Or will this be our last time
on each other's mind?