Imagine, if you will, my kitchen.
Are you imagining? Good – now burn it.
Keep the bones. They are concrete; build
on them with dirt and fingerprints.
Go out, way out, way past your cozy suburb
into a little place called Forgotten Road.
Stop at the empty theater and ask yourself:
did Wes Anderson ever piss in a place so poor?
Did Roland Emmerich, in his destruction of America,
ever wonder if America was already dead?
Return to my kitchen in person, with an old TV set.
Plug it in – it will play for you Master Chef.
Listen, for a moment, to Gordon Ramsey.
Laugh at him – don’t laugh at the abuse.
Open the charred refrigerator,
pour yourself a glass of Kool-Aid (red),
kick up your callouses,
and watch the cop follow little boy (black)
for a solid six blocks.
Cleo Keahna is a young artist from Hayward, Wisconsin. Strongly influenced by his unique upbringing and international experience, his works draw on feelings of isolation and the importance of stories. This is his first publication.