Sampson Starkweather
From La La La

light is awesome!

there should be a mind Olympics

imagine my mug

on a Wheaties box

a gold (in) metaphor

which is where

every metaphor should stop

I can do anything

with money

I’ll show you

If you give me the money

I too believe

in rivers

over slogans

define employed

I’m working

on carving

through the earth

my desire-map

is running

out of room

like that guy who grew

a garden of knives

to combat a lack of silver

in nature

there is a name for death

by sadness

but I forget

its name

my memory machine

a cracked lcd screen

uninsured

and damn good at it

I write

to become

historically

alone

 

 

 

 

From La La La

mystery is predictable

the army

should do something

about these poetry readings

feel free to read

this left to right

if it helps

I’ll remove

the gimp mask I was going

for an aura thing

put on

the wrestling

I wanna become

more human

this is going to make

for great television

Pimp my Poem

totally cancelled

after no seasons

everything is not

everything either

I’d like to take time

to apologize

to my liver

I’ve been emailing

people I forget

are dead again

how big is the wind

anyway there’s no

way to prove

love exists

unless you believe

the glittered script

of my 8th grade

t-shirt

YES WAY!

 

 

 

 

From La La La

trees don’t grow

on money

unless you water

the shit out of it

green with its own

zip code

junk mail & juvenilia

there must be a way

to cash in on this confusion

mine me mutha fuckers

end up on CNN

lost & bewildered

cranes and politicians

standing around

like zombies at a Spelling Bee

a chasm

a you-can’t-get-any-deeper-

than-this kinda shit

must of missed

the signs

who knew there were

outlet stores

for fire and animal innards

I’ll bring back

some otter pelts

for your collection

speaking of which I’m

interested in this

vintage wing

on your Etsy site

angel poaching

ain’t on the books

so I assume it’s kosher

when you walk away

I think the god

who put us here

forgot to punch

holes in the jar

I’d breathe

but I think oxygen

needs me more

that is

more me