on being whacked

my brain comes in fourteen sizes
some of them
are like whales
and others princely

little green girls
bitch slap me sometimes
and I like it more than
some of the alternatives

like meteorite strikes
on my butt
and cigarette butts
debasing me during baseball strikes

do not look at me
in that holier than a popsicle way
nothing about sense
makes sense to me anymore

so I will sing my song
and if you know the absurds
you can wing along
with me to tropical Antarctica

and other pliocene ages
where I am as cracked as the ground
tall as the Andes
and fat as elephant crap.