the dead dick of breakfast cereals

late nights on the graveyard
shift he’d tell me stories
of his volunteer work
at the local shelter

he was a good christian
and did his best
for all humanity

I was an extinguished
catholic who didn’t
care much for
corporate healing

but somehow
during those
nights we
found common
ground through
the comedic
suffering of others

he would tell me
of the ragged
old whores
building dream homes
out of mashed potatoes

of delusional men
in rat rags
insisting that
knives didn’t
count as weapons
and should be allowed
at the mission

but the most memorable
was of a morning
therapy group
he held with various men
in the facility
each crowding around
a large circular table

of course no one
wanted to speak
so he’d begin
by asking
a simple question
something to
loosen them up
and so he did

what’s your favorite
breakfast cereal
he asked
watching all
their minds churn
and yet many
quick with
answers like

frosted flakes
cocoa puffs
lucky charms
cap’n crunch
trix
fruit loops
cinnamon toast crunch
…
and then a dark
rather meek
fellow whose
voice could barely
be heard above
the crack of a nut
whispered
count chocula

and from the other
end of the room
came a voice
like a cue ball
cracking the other 15

BULLSHIT!
THAT’S MINE MOTHERFUCKER!!

and a man half horse
half dynamite
leapt upon the table
throwing fists
in the air
THAT’S THE ONE I WANTED
MOTHERFUCKER…

and these were the words
to which he had
to be restrained
pleading to god
for a bowl
of count chocula
…
when he finished the story
he asked me
my favorite cereal
and I told him shredded wheat

and he said that shredded wheat
was the dead dick
of breakfast
cereals
which
no one would
fight me for rights

but that’s just how I like it
I told him
let all
the lunatics battle
for empty satisfaction
and leave me
to the dead dick
of my existence
where though
dull to some
can still
get a rise
out of you!