I was drunk on Four Loko and ready for war.
I stole a watermelon from a barber,
I stole his widow’s soggy teeth.
I slipped inside a grocery store,
demanded the cashiers run a price-check on my name.
I pilfered twenty dollars and gestured wildly with a fish.
I stuffed my pockets full of asphalt broken off from the potholes.
I hurled my watermelon at a stoplight,
my guts at several walls.
I fell to pieces on my bed the way a watermelon falls.
My eyelids drooped down but my eyes were still open.
All around me alarm clocks started to ring.
-Jason Lester is a creative writing graduate student and a happy little cog in the MFA industrial machine. He recently began the daily weblog project Yes to Madness (yestomadness.blogspot.com), where he writes in a short poetic form he calls “madness haiku.” Invitations to take him out for drinks may be sent to firstname.lastname@example.org.
-This poem does not necessarily reflect the opinion of The Daily Aztec.