ryan quinn flanagan | mushroom is the cloud

Mushroom is the Cloud

You want to know what humble is?

Be a forty-six year old paperboy
no delusions of grandeur there,
or clean shitters for a living
that will give you perspective,
or wear a fry hat
with grease burn spatula

Nobody ever went places
with a hairnet
and a name tag,
just to the beer store
and back,
dreaming of employment insurance
or disability
(nothing serious
just enough to sit at home
and jack off
in peace)
thinking of wicker sex swings
and Edgar Allen Poe;
the way he died wearing
someone else’s pants,
there are worse ways to spend
your day;
restocking napkins, for one,
or pumping gas
or licking envelopes with the down-syndromes
and their blue super-hero lunch pails
for a pittance,
watching them drool out of the sides of their mouths
down onto their shirt sleeves
while the motivational speaker
with the uneven moustache
stands over your shoulder
lick faster!,
lick faster
or you’re fired!

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