Reid Baer CONFESSES to Margo Rose Ferderer “My Bad”<br />-<br />My Bad<br />By Reid Baer<br /><br />I become angry when you don’t <br />get the quintessential meaning <br />of my expression embedded <br /><br />from a wet dream, in a pirate’s <br />poem, or with any of my word-<br />smith endeavors to convey an <br /><br />obscure image from my conscious <br />and/or subconscious submarine <br />I believe at the time is quite <br /><br />universally true I mean <br />by simply throwing a wide net <br />into the deep deep ocean yet <br /><br />yet remarkably you do so <br />often capture my inane thought <br />(and I do so humbly thank you)<br /><br />swimmingly which is important <br />to me individually <br />in the extant moment but there’s <br /><br />no context for you and how shell <br />fish am I slightly embarrassed <br />and totally wrecked man on an <br /><br />island because I realize <br />oh, my bad unrealistic <br />expectation is not about <br /><br />your ship but my own personal <br />psyche drowning in some lousy <br />impalpable mood during a <br /><br />hurricane that can never be <br />readily transparent here nor <br />immediately understood. <br />-
