My love is the Coen Brothers film The Big Lebowski
by Shawnte Orion
after Jamie Mortara’s “game over, man”
My love is a tumbleweed lit by neon signs
blown into the middle of a California freeway
my love wanders grocery stores late at night
wearing its finest bathrobe and flip flops
the beauty of my love is its simplicity
my love has been on the fringes
of everything in L.A. for about twenty years
my love is out of its element
my love is in your hands
My love is a bowling ball too true for the gutter
my love treats objects like women
my love is good and thorough
my love is a Pomeranian showdog with papers
my love is emerald nail polish on an amputated toe
My love is a stolen 1972 Pontiac Lebaron
my love is heart failure in a street fight
my love is what happens when you fuck a stranger in the ass
my love is a furious ferret in a bubble bath
My love spends most of its time
occupying various administration buildings
but when it moves to your neighborhood
my love will go door to door to declare itself
my love is not afraid of the word vagina
or to help a special lady friend conceive
My love is not wrong it’s just an asshole
my love is not Vietnam there are rules
your revolution is over my love lost
fuckin A, my love really tied the room together
Shawnte Orion attended Paradise Valley Community College for one day, but he is the author of Gravity & Spectacle (a collaboration with photographer Jia Oak Baker from Tolsun Books) and The Existentialist Cookbook (NYQBooks). He is an editor for rinky dink press and his poems have appeared in Threepenny Review, Barrelhouse, Sugar House Review, New York Quarterly, and on the flipside of a split 7inch vinyl record with San Francisco band Sweat Lodge. His perfect date would be meeting up for a chai before going to Blockbuster Video and picking out some movie to rent based only on the cover box.
Forget Cool 