18 June 2008

Dan Provost

dan provost
junk mail

My e-mails are at least consistent,
Telling me my penis is too small, or my liquor problem is curable…
I guess my existence is a mess, all these organizations trying to help my short and long-term problems…

Literary and figuratively.

My sex life is shot according to “Jim's Enlarge Your Pecker” company.

I’ll think I keep my booze dilemma though.

my second poetry reading party

There I was, a balding
41 year old, cocked…

Dancing at this college party after a poetry reading to “Roll Over DJ” by Jet…

Drooling praise over the band—feeling
like I have discovered the next Beatles…

Then some busty co-ed politely taps me on the shoulder and
burst my bubble…

“These guys have been around for a while you know,” she says, looking at me
with soft, teary eyes.

“But I liked your poetry.”

A small victory for a middle age outlaw.

The song ends quickly, I gather my composer, take a swig of Wild Turkey and ask
the crowd,

“Anybody heard of Molly Hatchet?”

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