July 28, 2004

A Poem from 1966, Revised by the Ghost of Richard Brautigan, 2004 (twenty-first in a series)

“The Pomegranate Michael Moore Circus”

I am desolate in dimension

circling the sky

          like a rainy bird,

wet from toe to crown

wet from bill to wing.

I feel like a drowned king

at the pomegranate Michael Moore circus.

I vowed last year

that I wouldn’t go again

but here I sit in my usual seat,

   dripping and clapping

as the pomegranates go Michael Moore goes by

in their metallic costumes.

[like some hideous float fashioned

from congealed buttermilk— his

stupid cap perched smugly on his

   stupid, stupid head.]

          December 25, 1966 July 28, 2004

Posted by Jeff G. @ 7:46pm
4 comments | Trackback

Comments (4)

  1. Thank you a thousand times! When are you going to compile your Moore tidbits???

  2. Soon, I hope.

  3. Random question: in the original, what is the meaning of “the pomegranate?” Just curious.

    In other news, you deserve a lifetime achievement award for erudite elaboration on the theme of fatness.

  4. Re: pomegranates…

    Honestly?  I have no idea.

Leave a Reply