In the psychic healer's waiting room
an ashtray full of colored rocks,
glowing for the alien landing,
as I chew the gum with the biggest bubbles,
big enough to float me away through
sawdust clouds, but don't blow yet
as there is no wind.
a half wall of motivational posters,
some parody, all cat-themed.
as I wait for someone to take my brain
and work it into a fine paste for
a model stucco city of rubbermaid models
the rocks shake and chatter and
I swallow my gum.
it was only the vacuumer, listening to
Metallica on headphones larger than hubcaps
inspiration peeling off the walls,
trailing weakened tape. Fumbling
for more, I watch the trailer walls
fall out into the rented yard of barking dogs.
Will they see me? This is taking forever.