my rickety-crickety (broken) back

my rickety-crickety (broken) back

Racked by the racket 
of my rickety-crickety (broken) back
I’ll…blind-baby-grab… for anything transportive,   
That is, I’ll see your Crown and Coke, and raise you
a midnight toke, I’ll see your Seagram and Seven, 
and call it with these two little pills prescribing heaven.

Wrecked by the wreckage
of my worn-torn (broken) back
I’ll… come-humbling on my knees, and in your arms,
Meaning, I’ll sing your song, if you’ll right my wrong,
I’ll swear your good-god name, if you can take away
my god-damn pain.

Heckled by the hell
of my helter-skelter (broken) back
I’ll… cry-scribbling some heart-soaked words.
What I mean is, I’ll try-fiddling some poetry-steeped 
meaning from a blood-soaked world.     

Racked by the racket
of my rickety-crickety (broken) back
I’ll… blind-baby-seek for anything transcendent,
That is, I’ll see your chanting mantra, and raise you
to bodhisattva, I’ll see your hours of nirvana seeking mediation, 
and call it with a day of Woodstock likened celebration.

M. L. Michael 
05-03-08- <---> 05-10-10-

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