To the Artist's Page                   To our home page

To Part II                             To Sean Underwood's next piece

ditch weed
III.

will i realize my feast when i look down to see my fat belly and look up to see my balding head or hold my defunct cock in my arthritic hand or try to make sense of my failing portfolio or overcompensate because of my failed marriage and two troubled teens?

will i be able to enjoy the feel of a skin tight leather skullcap against my gray bald head as i stream down life's highway as fast as i can on a harley fatboy passing all those mini-vans during my mid-life crisis?

i'll feel good while bangin' away on my hot
fresh-outta-college secretary
who loves to be indiscreet
and fucked
just the way i’ve always dreamed or
this one where i end up dying in a roadside ditch because of a motorcycle accident. it seems to be late fall because the air is crisp but the sun is still bright as it speeds toward the horizon. from what i can see lying at the bottom of the ditch, i must be in the mid-west somewhere because that’s the only place with sunsets like this. the fiery red sky of the west blends perfectly to blue-black in the east. every color in between…just so big. i must have fallen asleep behind the handlebars or something because i can’t hear anything besides my fading heartbeat and i can tell there is no one around for miles. probably why i was on this road in the first place. i know i’m dying but i feel good, almost euphoric.

i believe, perhaps, that's when my feast will come

when the snow thaws and my corpse is exposed
and after my rot and bone sucks the green grass out of the earth
and forces it up into raw hard weeds
that are burned during the fall

then, on a roadside ditch
i'll have no choice but to shine

To the top of this page