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Church of the Adagio
by Philip Dacey

SOURDOUGH ENNUI

“I’m bored.  Let’s do something, Man.  Let’s do something.
                        Let’s get naked. Get a soda, cheesecake, anything!" 
                              Overheard, corner of 15th and Guerrero, San Francisco                                                 

I’m bored.  Let’s do something.  What does it take
to give this place a shot of juice, a buzz?
Let’s get naked.  Get a soda.  Cheesecake.

Man, I’m ready for another earthquake.
Let the plates shift and the tidal waves rise
to swamp my boredom, if that’s what it takes.

This big nothing’s giving me a headache.
Black hole?  My middle name.  Boredom is what is
unless we get naked, a soda, cheesecake,

anything--boogie-woogie on a stick.
How bored can I get?  Let me count the ways.
I’d even consider an all-out attack,

but on what, whom?  The savage god Yawn.  Let’s make
faces, a beeline, time, a joyful noise.
Or else just get naked, a soda, cheesecake.

Isn’t there something, anything, to shake
up this day, my stopped clock, some word to raise
the dead?   The air’s for mounting.  What would it take
to get you naked?  A soda?  Cheesecake?

 

 
 
 
 

 

 
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