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self-analysis.

by Jared Fladeland

i am the infinite,
po-nifinite,
magnificent scented boy of a thousand ages.
hear me splinter ear drums with a cosmo daquiri.

conversations relating between this marvel known as time
and missing space
leave me dry like dust
squeezing every water molecule I can suck from the air
down my empty throat.

i spend like thrift stores
and have nothing to show for it but a patched up soul.

12/14/2006

Posted on 12/14/2006
Copyright © 2026 Jared Fladeland

Member Comments on this Poem
Posted by Kathleen Wilson on 12/16/06 at 06:26 PM

Hee hee, you are very funny and truly a "magnificent scented boy of a thousand ages"--that stuff works really well, and I can smell you from here. One wonderful (personal) allusion I got from the last two lines-- is that when we managed a thrift store for our kid's school-- an old women bought sweaters, took them apart and made an amazing many colored quilt as a gift for us out of them. Right thrifts stores don't spend-- but ah that "rag" would be magnifecent as a royal robe for you... The progression here is very good, and the dust leads right into the store. The humor and also heightened thinking makes me giggle.

Posted by Morgan D Hafele on 04/11/07 at 04:34 AM

sometimes i feel like the last 2 lines... woo!

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