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  • Jimmy Broccoli

The Gentleman Kenny

Updated: 5 days ago

“Red is too simple a word – it is too common to be used for such an occasion!

Instead – I pronounce you scarlet – no, I pronounce you crimson –

You are merlot or a well-aged blackberry cabernet –

with hints of black pepper, tobacco, and darkly-colored licorice –

You are the blood orange squeezing gently from underneath my skin,

escaping my wrists delicately –

so lovely and so mesmerizing –

A sanguine orchestra plays merrily as I begin to feel lightheaded …



The sunlight shines brightly through the early morning windows of my bedroom –

Burgundy dampness settles alongside mostly dried magenta –

violating 400 thread count manufacturer intended white –

My sheets are a Picasso – or, perhaps, more accurately –

an unusually uncolorful Jackson Pollock –

I feel drained and defeated –

The circus ended – it packed up and it did not take me with it –

I sit up and then I sit upon the edge of my bed,

my feet and legs dangling towards the wooden floor beneath


I tell myself it is okay –

“It’s okay,” I tell myself


Next time I will succeed –

next time I will do it exceptionally well



If not mistaken – one will make you larger – and another one will make you small …

Mother’s drug cabinet is locked, except when mother forgets to lock it –

and the hookah-smoking caterpillar has given me the call …


I hear the pills calling – they are calling my name –

I wish to dance with the gleeful forest animals amongst the enchanting and magical flora -

I will go ask Alice, but I will not wait for her reply –

I’ve always dreamed of being ten feet tall –

and then falling, falling, falling …

like the Jolly Green Giant – falling hard upon the leaf-covered forest floor –

and not rising again – not rising again –

[after dancing with my playful forest animal friends]

to slumber in Fairyland forever –

… the White Rabbit checks his watch and it is time …



I wake up – initially, a bit confused –

and do not feel ten feet tall –

The pink, the orange, the green and the white goodnights from the night before …

Fee-fi-fo-fum –

I’m lying on the linoleum floor of my bathroom, surrounded by vomit –

I can even see some of the pills (still in whole pill form) within the vomit –

The scene is not Michelangelo or a Mona Lisa –


It’s Francisco Goya all over the floor, all over the toilet (and the seat) –

with a few of his smaller paintings painted upon the wall …


I stand up – slowly [because that is the only way I am able to stand up] –

“it is okay”, I say – and then I say it to myself again


Eventually – I will do it exceptionally well …



Office Depot rope in a knot not tight enough to strangle permanently …

it’s not ideal – and it is not what I was hoping for

- my dangling male and masculine thin body thrashes against the air –

[it might appear to an uninformed onlooker as if I’m dancing]

spastic feet and legs and arms flailing without pattern or a secondary plan –

[I see the sun upon the horizon – it is rising, it is rising –

and IT IS BRILLIANT – It is more beautiful than I had ever imagined!

Let the sunshine! – let the sunshine! – let the sunshine in!] …

Then, my boy-scout knots fail and I fall clumsily and hard onto the metal chair beneath –

It clanks as it falls against the kitchen linoleum –

as I tumble ungraciously onto the floor


It’s not today [I try not to lose my optimism] – but,


Eventually – I will do it exceptionally well …



Do you know what it feels like to be hit by and then be run over by a train (?)


… Give me 54 seconds and I will describe it to you –

Give me 51 seconds – and I will describe it to you …


the train continues fast down the track – it’s breaks and conductor do not anticipate me …


I do not close my eyes, as those in the movies do –

I do not blink [I want to capture all of it!] as the cowcatcher and the ditch lights rush to greet me –

As they rush to embrace me –

The air horn sounds – it welcomes me! It beckons me!

The air horn sounds again –

and I throw my arms up into the air wildly in celebration

Multicolored confetti falls upon the scene [I can see it falling] –

The party horns sound a third time as the train speeds closer –

Pour the campaign! It is almost midnight!


It has been years since I smiled –

since I’ve smiled a genuine smile

 - and I am smiling now …


“it feels like” …



The hookah-smoking caterpillar sits upon my nearly-unidentifiable body, smoking –


… the dormouse

… the dormouse


Feed your head

Feed your head


… and I did it exceptionally well

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