David Given Schwarm

#This is some bad poetry from a journal that has a pink bandana cover. It starts with a
#newspapaer clipping dated June 2, 1989

I hate waking up to the sounds of Jack hammers
If you don’t stop crying I will send you to your room
Mornings in Pasadena have much to be desired
Marital stress – smog
Hear the cool breezes are inhaled by angry auto mechanics
Even my garden reeks of the gasoline water mixture I drained from my gas tank
my cactus heeds water
but not that kind
I need sappho
in the roaring 80’s
no one needs their own voice
our mentors argue that our voices
shall be dereived from milk cartons
marginal notes
tv news
our forms are not ours
use gestalt everywhere to define our puposeless existance
I keep screaming for everyone to give up
they all have all but me

Define by abstraction
it all ends in
existential arguements
say x or y is x or
y and happy about
it and happy mean
existance then draw
bubbley smiley faces
over their prom dresses
and send them away
I need to send bank of
america 41$ so that they
will leave me alone
I only need to send
you a stamp