Kevin Young Imitation Poem

Ode to Portland

I want to be artisanally
rendered from the belly

of a farm-raised pig
and cured into bacon

with the shavings of organic
hemp grasses perfuming my flesh

with aromatic smoke; I want to ink
mysterious Native American symbols

onto my muffin top while
displaying it over my locally

sourced jeans; I want to watch
the raccoons hunt my heritage breeds

of chicken as the rain falls down
and mold grows

in the eaves
of my mind.

 I want to drive my Subaru
to the mountain in my North Face jacket

and tell legends of an Indian princess
turned volcano and her spurned lovers

I want to live free or die
on a bicycle, I want to agitate for squatters' rights,

I want to buy skunk bud at my
local organic popsicle stand,

skate home to my housemates
and strum a banjo while the pickles
brine.