by Larry Bierman20 Nov 2017
He wears the face of a low hangover,
the kind that goes on for thirty years.
He is some kind of super genius.
Rumor is his toes are webbed.
That's how he got the nickname
Platypus--his toes and his love
of Plato. He lives in a parable
and it's terrible. He composes
a symphony one note at a time.
He notes the sounds around him
and then pins them like tiny bugs
on manuscript paper. He keeps
passing notes. His first prelude
is charted for a murder of crows.
People spread the rumor that his
tongue is prehensile. He holds
his words before he trades them,
this gives him an air of gravitas.
He built a shipwreck in a bottle.
He did drink all the whiskey first.
He got seasick before he could
make a catamaran in a beer can.
He had insight to riot, but
he kept it quiet. He could rear
a wrong. He would not be named.
We called him Duckbill or James,
whatever suited him at the time.
He had whims and a few friends,
He only counted the women.
His greatest accomplishments he
had gold plated and hung them
on his wall. He too a bullet,
but getting run over killed him.