The Ballad of Nicor Misgoni

By Anis Mojgani.

I like my eggs scrambled
because I prefer function over form

When I drive I shut my eyes
When I open them I say Haha Death- you didn’t get me this time

I’ve nothing better to do than talk about why diagonally cut toast
is so much better than toast that’s cut straight through the middle

Houdini had it figured out
except he kept getting out of the chains

Escape is a six-letter word like heroin
but all the spoons in my house are dirty

and I don’t feel like turning on the dishwasher
-the stack of dishes is proof I exist

I listen to the radio all day waiting
just to hear the Dj say Up next- 10 piles of shit in a row

If I were a telemarketer
I would call my own house and ask to speak to myself

The voice of our generation is still sleeping
Can you call back later?

I call back later
I get the same reply

Good things come to those that don’t move
I should be in heaven

Just ask the couch
It’s familiar with my backside

Hello Nicor’s backside, so good of you to join us
Oh Couch, you know I wouldn’t have it any other way

I visit my parents so my mother will give me her love
When she does I yell at her

for giving me something that precious
because I know she’s one person who will no matter what

She says What’s wrong Nicor?
You seem like such a sad person these days

Not me Ma I’m on cloud six
only three more to go

Before I leave home my mother tells me to be happy
the plane ride is 236 dollars to forget the life below

Up here the clouds carry more weight
I am struggling like a poem

All the ladies with hourglass figures are cracking at the hip
The sand is emptying

The world is lightning
The sin is filling with colors I find I can stare into

I take the American flag to make a blanket from it
and wrap myself in something I remember as once being special.

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