by John Rocco
On the asphalt flesh road
Northern Blvd.
Queens, baby, Queens
old Indian trail
the starving ghosts chase
used condoms and Taco Bell wrappers
anything for a taste of the lost time.
I’m on my way in the middle of the day
to go porn shopping
the cool colorful shelves
exciting and calming
but I can’t get there
because of the traffic suicides
Tanya Tucker on the radio
and the big white truck right
in front of me has painted on
its rear door in big red
white and blue:
THIS IS AMERICA!
LOVE IT OR
GET THE HELL OUT!
Succubus sunlight
explodes my windshield
cooking up
my brains
what’s left
but soon I’m
inside the porn store
cool and peaceful
shopping for guilt.
This is one of the most potent and inspiring poems that I have read in a while.