Forty-two ~ Wednesday, November 5, 2025
Dr. Ummer met Mr. Gabidar
on the way to the Lyric Opera
chewing on a cinnamon stick, his breath
tart like Lavoris mouthwash, from afar
odors reminiscent of herbal tea
reminded Gabidar of injera
Ummer reflected deeply on the death
made known recently in the newspaper
media of an obituary
enlightened the doctor of his ex-wife
reason kept him from visiting Clanton
maybe her parents were alive, the knife
entered his heart so long ago, no fun
the memories made him want to rape her
Mr. Gabidar did not see beyond
indeed, could not read the thoughts in his mind
still, Dr. Ummer was not a bad man
this professor of music sought no bond
eternal or otherwise with others
recently conferred a prize of a kind
Gabidar knew of the prize, how to scan
ancient Greek poetry as songs, the swine
blisters on his fingers, like his brothers
indeed, a trio of tabla drummers
drums were not his interest but politics
as economics and long, hot summers
reminded him that Chicago red bricks
ordered the landscape of Hyde Park as fine
not dirty like New York, prostitutes talk
thoughtless people talk trash about their town
how performative language games affect
everyone who has ears to hear the squawk
witness the loss of capital, business
affected by chatter heard by Miss Brown
yet, her writings rarely ever effect
today's, tomorrow's, or yesterday's news
of course, in retrospect, yesterday's mess
thoughtless people never care about words
heated arguments and debates define
endless boundaries of windows with dead birds
Lycanthropic activity refine
yesterday's landscape, not a single bruise
religious over the full moon, pagans
instill a sense of supernatural
carnality, Miss Brown writes on werewolves
Obviously, "werewolves," rabid vegans
pretend to portray the dingy city
elegantly as an old cultural
relic, Gabidar, as detective, solves
ancient riddles, pips on two dies, pity
on the way to the Lyric Opera
chewing on a cinnamon stick, his breath
tart like Lavoris mouthwash, from afar
odors reminiscent of herbal tea
reminded Gabidar of injera
Ummer reflected deeply on the death
made known recently in the newspaper
media of an obituary
enlightened the doctor of his ex-wife
reason kept him from visiting Clanton
maybe her parents were alive, the knife
entered his heart so long ago, no fun
the memories made him want to rape her
Mr. Gabidar did not see beyond
indeed, could not read the thoughts in his mind
still, Dr. Ummer was not a bad man
this professor of music sought no bond
eternal or otherwise with others
recently conferred a prize of a kind
Gabidar knew of the prize, how to scan
ancient Greek poetry as songs, the swine
blisters on his fingers, like his brothers
indeed, a trio of tabla drummers
drums were not his interest but politics
as economics and long, hot summers
reminded him that Chicago red bricks
ordered the landscape of Hyde Park as fine
not dirty like New York, prostitutes talk
thoughtless people talk trash about their town
how performative language games affect
everyone who has ears to hear the squawk
witness the loss of capital, business
affected by chatter heard by Miss Brown
yet, her writings rarely ever effect
today's, tomorrow's, or yesterday's news
of course, in retrospect, yesterday's mess
thoughtless people never care about words
heated arguments and debates define
endless boundaries of windows with dead birds
Lycanthropic activity refine
yesterday's landscape, not a single bruise
religious over the full moon, pagans
instill a sense of supernatural
carnality, Miss Brown writes on werewolves
Obviously, "werewolves," rabid vegans
pretend to portray the dingy city
elegantly as an old cultural
relic, Gabidar, as detective, solves
ancient riddles, pips on two dies, pity
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