Mr. Mike’s Collage Poetry

Mr. Mike (aka Penguin, Sling-blade) is my favorite personal cab driver back in Salt Lake City. He’s an interesting character, both a spun out speed junkie and revered intellectual. I have a lot of respect for him, all faults beside the point. He’s the type of guy who can quote Steinbeck and Shakespeare verbatim, followed by an offer for free drugs. He drives everyone for tip only, and thus it’s no surprise that the rogue cabbie has an impressive list of clientele. A few months back, he asked me if I wouldn’t mind collaborating on a project with him. I said sure, and twenty minutes later Mr. Mike showed up with 25 or so handmade collage poems. They’re crazy. I assume he must have done them on drug-induced sleep deprived nights, meticulously cutting words out of magazines and rearranging them into sordid poems. They’re all on different card stocks and they read like the diary of a mad social scientist. Who knows what I’ll do with them, probably just write a foreword and scan them. Either way, here’s a quick glimpse of page 2…


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