This won’t get me in The New Yorker

I don’t know Odysseus from Euripides

Or between Freud & Jung
 				   the differences and the similarities

I don’t know if post-postmodernism will be wrought
                From some new marxism or from nihilism

Or of love how it is in Senegal and on a Grecian isle
                                                        for I’ve been to neither

I do know Buster down the street
 		had some bad shit and tore the head
 		off of his little cat because it wouldn’t stop
meowing and it sounded like sirens, 
and he thought bullies were coming

And that means something

© Scott MacAulay