in a trance about a horse

I wear the watermelon on my head
the pickles up my nose,
so that you'll laugh at fruit
at seeds

at me.

The best white cloud passes
in procession southwest to north east
you point and call it a storm
as if you're mad

at me.

She wears a sweater hat
reminiscent of a bonnie bonnet
blue and smelling of shampoo
I look at her and smile

at me.

God, I'm funny, so fucking funny
it makes my pituitary jiggle
and snot ooze out my nose
you gently twist your head side to side

at me.

When I take the watermelon
and toss it on the ground
wipe the snot and pickles from my nose
you groan, but i just smile

at you.