Du Fu, you doofus, that’s not
a goose. You’re drunk.
Please allow me to introduce…
no, that’s not your horse.
(No, nor woman neither.)
Into every life a little
Freud must fall. I’m a fraud.
I stole that pun. Like I said:
I’m afraid. Into every light
a little moth must blunder…
Cue power ballad.
I don’t know what to call a spade.
The sky will lately swish stuff.
I open my barbaric yap.
Du Fu joins me on the veranda.
We are old and full of crap.
The millionaires across the way,
their homes are all ablaze.
We like it when those homes collapse
like moths before clichés.
This appeared in the June 2013 issue.
Michael Robbins wrote the 2012 collection Alien vs. Predator.
