The Collaboration

The following is currently untitled. Doug and i decided it would be fun to co author a poem on the way home from Mexico. This is what we conjured up. Don't worry if you don;t get it all. If it is too personal to be enjoyed by others, then i guess that is our fault. Hopefully it is still somewhat enjoyable. For fun, you can try to guess who wrote which stanzas. As always, comments voicing favorite/least favorite lines are welcome.

Out from a wasteland of spiritual growth,
a northbound caravan treks on
less than average highways,
making a chiropractor, or a member
of the opposite sex, attracitve.

A fellowship unbroken by misfused communications,
strengthened by national and
sexual boundaries. Broken freely
in the lust for a better breeze
and the unbounded mirth of recaptured air conditioning.

Contrary to pastoral instruction,
forced friendships are purged
with no regret. Like a parasite
imbibed during regular hygiene,
it's okay to bid permanent farewells.

A heavy vapor of death and
free-flowing blood seeks to overwhelm,
but newfound glory and Sufjan
Febreeze us to freedom.
God bless America (and screw Cher).

And self-absorbed idol-worshiping brats,
screw them too. Silence of isolation
never sounded so energizing.
Unwarranted and unabashed
Bandwagon jumping is condemned here.

Rolling eyes cause boiling blood--
here's to hoping they just keep rolling
and we sell our attitudes to a Dallas whorehouse.
Fed up with this American over-satisfaction,
where are the oompa-loompas when you need them?

Back to the land of forgetfullness--
to the land where not thinking
means no regrets,
where trenches dug and barriers crossed
serve only to be used in apologetic defense.

Remember jovial adolescent faces
lit by Dollar Tree merchandise
Remember poured floors near filled ravines
when iPods, snogging, and varied
building materials become the norm.

Remember the love square's one-night stand with Walt.
Remember flushless toilets and shower parties.
Remember "hot seat" but more importantly cold seat, idiot.
Remember dull shovels, ruddy mops, and the body of Christ.
Remember the land south of the border.
Forget the Alamo.