David L O'Nan

Through the Eyes of Elliott Atlas

Searching in mud pits
In beautiful homes
He saw all those Mona Lisas
In his home
He saw the bad apples
The runaround Sues
The pictures of men as deer hunters
Friends of your dad
And your dad
And smelling like Barbasol 
And some form of Buck or Doe attractive
I don’t know anything about deer hunting
Sorry sailors
I’m the leftovers in a school tray
The last scrap of tuna in the corner
Living, baby in an abandoned K-Mart
Afraid of all the Gigolos that linger 
Through the woods 
Wanting women to pay for their gyrations
And men to be frightened of their pistol brained negligence
Nights, not in white satin
These nights are nights, when you are scared to cross the train tracks
You might see love, or you might see a devil
Crashing a beer can into a midnight trailer park
Or find yourself living on an alligator farm suddenly
You know to wash the tails in the sink
And you know all the scarecrows by name
Maybe they would know you better
If you were more like your dad
Instead of your newfound Hippy Sunshine
Mona Lisas?, hah
Who laughs at you, Elliott Atlas?
The entire town of Biscuit-Gravy, Florida.
Goodnite Sir.

David L O’Nan has been writing poetry, prose, short stories, humor, sad, and all around for over 16 years.  He lives in Southern Indiana, and has read at many Midwestern coffeehouses, bars, poetry tribute nights for Sylvia Plath, Charles Bukowski, John Lennon, Jeff Buckley. He currently has 2 poetry books available on Amazon The Famous Poetry Outlaws are Painting Walls and Whispers andAll of Our Fears in Tunnels and is the EIC of Fevers of the Mind Poetry & Art Digest with his wife. Also, available on Amazon.  Follow on Twitter @Feversof and @DavidLONan1 and Facebook @DavidLONan1.