BADGER ON BADGERS

Rarely seen in daylight, I am chubby

but insubstantial. I, of course, love

the poor – noble savages. I have taste

and a plastic bib. Fear death

and foreclosure equally. My shoe

is deteriorating from the inside

out; there’s a crack in the sole

where the mop-water gets in.

I do not trust the Dutch,

nor should you. A scalp

is what you pick sitting beside

the pretty lady on the subway.

I had an ill-connected

uncle who was so sick when his throat

was slit, the blood pooling

on the basement floor was marbled

with thick phlegm. Punch me –

I’ll stand back up.