The Polar Express’ Desk Clerk
On the Polar Express,
‘cross walls of velvet,
draped in wood.
‘Cross porcelain dinners of
fat bellied men. ‘Cross painfully
happy dogs. In the back,
below piss colored lights,
is the clerk’s desk.
Armed deadly.
With his kippah.
He fends off
merry ghosts.
Brilliant Jelly
To be so brilliant,
as a jellyfish.
To float aimlessly,
gobble plankton.
To be more jelly in mind and soul.
Here’s to knowing nothing,
feeling nothing, thinking nothing.
I’m here to float.