Sunday, April 14, 2013


Salvation comes in the form of bulletproof vests
warrant check on hobos
drinking in park
less than 24 hours after making my shoe sheath
a lieutenant pulls the knife out
Or maybe I'm too drunk to notice
And keeps it safe
While warrants are cross referenced
"Bleacher, Oggy. State of Fuckwad...Warrants?"

And this is how it should be...with
Electricians who have lost their hands in bar fights
and bull riders on toothless bicycles
April becomes the cruelest month
The month of Oggy's demise
The sad end to his affairs
Struggling for guitars and fingers in a Pina Jarritos flavor
Of the month.
Public Intoxication.
Open Container.
Unregistered Moped.
Yankee in a strange republic.
"He's a concert pianist,"
Says Cow Milk pointing at Oggy.
Attitudes and dark glasses.
My Chinese Timber Wolf knife taken by police.
But they left me my shoe sheath
"It looks like an old boxing glove,"
Says the Lieutenant.
And Oggy has a chance to go down in a blaze of glory
Make front page news for two seconds.
But he's a Coward and says, "It was a shoe."

Wasted Land

Wasted Land

April be not the cruelest month**
With birds in angry repose
Squawking over seeds casually thrown
By gentle men with senile minds
Young men watching whores on the tracks
With knives in aging knees...

No, cruel is June, the dog heat of July
The police brutality of August.
Makes a homeless man dream of April
And the first signs of Spring fashion
In the panty boutiques on the boulevard
Where vain oil wives go to spend commercial wages
Before the horse flies return with vengeance undefined.

Creative Commons License
Man in the Van by Oggy Bleacher is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial 3.0 Unported License.