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By Frederick Seidel
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Audio Poem of the Day — Victory Parade. Machine-transcribed; use the interactive transcript above to jump the player to any line.
0:00Victory, parade. My girlfriend is a miracle. She's so young, but she's so beautiful. So is her new bikini trim, a waxed to neatness center strip of quim. Now there's a word you haven't heard for a while. It makes me smile. It makes me think of James Joyce. You hear his oyerish voice. It's spring on Broadway. And in the center strip mall, the trees are all excited to be beginning. My girlfriend's amazing waxing keeps grinning. It's enough to distract from the other drastic act of display today. Osama bin Laden is dead, one shot to the chest, and one to the head. Field team six, far away from my bed, above Broadway, in a bot-a-bot, Pakistan, instead.
1:06Bullets beyond compare, flew over there, flew through the air, to above and below the beard of hair, a type of ordinance that exploded inside the guy, and instantly downloaded the brains out the nose. Now the Vietnam is now radical Islam. I tip my hat and heart to the lovely tiny lampshade above her parade.
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