Tuesday, August 9, 2011

Rainbows

Surprisingly, rainbows do not gush out of my ass
or any other orifice of my body
while I ride my unicorn Pony Girl to candy-coated Heaven
I smell like cigarettes and ride the decaying
public buses that usher out their very own shitty rainbow of
pollutants and I pop my lithium like candy corn so that
I don’t actually see unicorns strolling in the back alleys of
The local AA Social Club

Maybe it will pour down rain and wash my sins away
and a rainbow will shine brightly in the sky while
a Goodyear Blimp cuts across it,
magically giving my morning coffee a hint of pumpkin spice
and breaking my smoking habit for good
good sport I am I’ll have started a fitness program
for preteens who believe in the Flying Spaghetti Monster

No, rainbows do not gush out of my ass
or any other orifice of my body
while I tiptoe through the tulips
or in my case the thorn bushes
I prefer stargazing on LSD
and miniature people collecting.

--Kevin Ridgeway is a writer currently based in Southern California in a shady bungalow with his girlfriend, one eyed cat and old books. He studied creative writing at Goddard College and Mt. San Antonio College, at the latter of which he won the 2011 Writer's Day Award for prose with special citations for his poetry. He has most recently been published in The Left Coast Review and Insomnis Veritas, and is anticipating two forthcoming publications in Breadcrumb Scabs and Larks Fiction Magazine.