On The Futility Of Intellectualizing About Ray Bradbury Thank God/My Unopened Letter To The Academics

I mean the man keeps telling you he's still playing with dinosaurs

and isn't it grand but you can't stand who he really is compared I guess to you

with his lightning wand and his blue electric wish for foreverland and so

you endeavor to make his work inaccessible with your furrowed brows

there must be a way, somehow you mutter into your exquisite soup

but Bradbury's doing loop the loops and the crowd is cheering

they can't hear you what you fear most

but Bradbury's with the Holy Ghost, Lon Chaney, and the way back

whens and it just sends me the way that you pretend he's dealing

with cosmic themes when he told you over and over

he just wanted to pay for another hot dog, spin on the merry go round

of time, and time , and time again

grab a pantry donut, and split like a banana split

make jokes about what's in the dank the spooky jar while

grabbing a fistful of stars on the way out.

shouting LIVE FOREVER YOU DODO BIRDS YOU CLOWNS

I told you I was just dreaming and then

writing it all down.

mary angela douglas 3 may 2021