September 22, 2004

A Poem from 1968, Revised by the Ghost of Richard Brautigan, 2004 (twenty-fourth in a series)

Hey, Bacon!

The moon like:

mischievous bacon

crisps its desire


I harbor myself Michael Moore harbors himself

toward two a half-dozen eggs

over easy

[and a drum of

butterscotch syrup —

which he rolls

around in like

a hog in edible

sty mud.]

Posted by Jeff G. @ 6:30pm

Comments (6)

  1. Are you going to publish these?  Because you really need to publish these.  I’d buy one wink

  2. Yes. Yes. I think I shall, yes.

  3. Heck, I’ll pre-order a copy.

  4. I actually saw Michael Moore in person tonight, so that imagery is even more disturbing than it usually would be.

  5. You called?