Whistle-Whistle Pop


United States
40° 44' 31.974" N, 96° 38' 51.9972" W

When morning light cracks, my skull rattles to ear-piercing bebop saxophone

Prize-fighter in the corner, crave the bell, you pitbull,

crushed ankles will likely give out, useless things

no one needs them. Standing only on my knees,

box like a bengal, vicious animal, I'll gnaw, claw,

drag your spine to concrete, bare my heels 'round sidewinder hips.

Center ring, Wow! the crowd, aaah's and guffaws.

All I need is a challenger, line up on the wall,

hand over my playground tormentors,

makers of faulty toilet paper dispensers,

televangelist charlatans, door-to-door vacuum salesmen,

let's do battle.

Dry cereal begging for milk, lace up your gloves,

pimps of childhood prostitutes, this is the view from my knuckles,

any writer who is not Jack Kerouac, any writer who is Jack Kerouac,

draw your sword, throwing star, taser, tear gas grenades,

take me to Custer's Last Stand, I want a piece.

Extradite your monstrous nightmares to my field of war

give them up, let me be your champion.

Walk ten-paces North and I ten-paces South,

Turn, FIRE, cowboy, FIRE!

Once they're gone, the saxophone will cease,

Once they're gone, our fathers will take us fishing,

Once they're gone, lovers will know, it was for them

Once they're gone, we will find the Northwest Passage.

Until then, call on my armor bearers, Samson and Radar,

antagonize me, pry open my eyelids and starve me,

keep me vicious, rip away my silk-robe humanity,

my mind a July 4th shell, ready to whistle-whistle pop.

Fuse is lit, stand back children,

blazing, flying, explode the sound of retreating darkness,

let it ring for 3 long seconds


Additional Resources

Get AI Feedback on your poem

Interested in feedback on your poem? Try our AI Feedback tool.


If You Need Support

If you ever need help or support, we trust CrisisTextline.org for people dealing with depression. Text HOME to 741741