by Edwin Torres

           Straight comes from
           truth—crooked from crime.
           Hidden crooks from
           nannies—straight & narrow
           from travel. Simple as all
           that...I still can't see
           breaking up the weirdness
           once it's begun...right?
           Just revel in it, soak
           in the pig of it! Let it
           overcome you as a hum
           often does!

My favorite teacher knows nothing...
and teaches it to me.
I now have a degree to teach what I've learned.

           ...that is, BADLY, I do...that is...

O, Give me the fuzzy lessons
of my professor, the burned-out Victorian
past eighty onto nowhere.
Gimme dem dismal vowelings
of my teacher...QUICK it's
too bright in here,
sappy, bright &...Q U I C K ,
amma losin' myaaa. . . I - N E R - G E E...gimme dose
scattered ramblin's of dat V I S I T - M E - I N - M Y - T E N T. . HO-Yessir!
HUP! dat sacro-babble-ilia of nuns-on-densed by
le bons mots sans-sense of my PO-fessa! Gash!, Gook!,
Pock! AND Pookle! I can hear itta-all...WAY too... C L E A R A L L Y !
the engine's awhirring, SPEAK, strongly, muffled & QUICK!
Wrong me up my PRRRRR-fessor, (EXACTLY!)..Help
me NERVOUS my P O S I T I O N . . . gots
too much calm at my fingerflips, DUH WHIRL
HAS STOPPED WINDING, WHAMMY!!!...Hurry, (whinin')
GET ME my PROFESSOR...I need to
learn nothing, again!

Edwin Torres Author Page

Pub. May 2000