Guinea Pig Life

Reflection scrubbed

hocus pocus

by skies torn, raining tears.

It belches, streaks

then disappears

before shifting back into soft focus.


Aluminum, Barium and Strontium: sun’s got three halos.

Blacktop stench is strong today

mixed with the tang

of dumpster decay

and something else… who knows?



How’s confinement

treating you?

The safest way

to view the world!

And, what did you contribute today?

Got my pelt all furled,

dispensed a

guinea pig pellet

or two!


When it drains, it snores-

Hungry dogs circle

until it warps the floora

…me oh my…

I’m getting feral–

bar the windows

and bolt the doors.


Guinea pig, guinea pig

how you will shine

when the last

star has fallen

from the fucked up sky.


Tut tut… it looks like

the apocalypse…

only more stupid—

sponsored by

Twatter and OK Cupid.


There They are-

behind satellite dishes-

aiming Their microwaves at you.

Like you’re a Hot Pocket—

a rack of boneless ribs—

perniciously delicious

but not half as cute.


Hot Pocket and you know what?

In your sold out soul, you are- you are- you are…


you’ll plump when They cook you:

for sure- for sure- for sure…

this is what gives:

Hot… not nutritious. Wholly impure.

You get the pits and the shits you’ll endure.


Guinea pig, guinea pig

locked out

of the proceedings…

confined to spectator status, ya dig?

With your compulsory salute

and your trash clogged chute…

you ready your phone camera…

your wise apparatus..





wait for the signal

to shoot, shoot, shoot.



RED ZONED BLACKED OUT, digital photo collage, 2003 copyright GPD

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