A Pasticheur of Americas Best

Today I read an anthology of poems. They were advertised as the best American poems of 2010. Quite frankly most of these poems were just a mish mash of words. To me poems should be uplifting leaving the reader with a happy feeling or teaching a lesson about life. These poems, to me, were more downers than anything else ...
So .. Here is my Pasticheur of these poems.

This is an extremely blue black night in Virginia.
The rain is clanging on the tin roofs of the buildings
Sounding like dimes
Being dropped in tin collection cups.

I sprayed on Bert Bees outside deodorant
On my underarms
And now I smell like an herbal salad.

The last three lines are really out of place here
But they may be the only lines
That make any sense.

At this moment my dog is barking at a capybara
Trying to drink water
Out of our goldfish pond.

However -

I am insouciant about it.

The whole scene is a monochromatic blur
As the walking fish take to the streets
To picket the eating of oysters
From the polluted Chesapeake bay.

In the meantime -

The facades of the buildings in Norfolk
Are all melting
Looking like a Salvador Dali painting -
Or shimmering like a heat mirage
On a stretch of desert sand.

Now all along the back lot I see
Row after row of wet baseball gloves
Waiting for the red orb to rise in the east.

Before the orb has risen though
The gloves have turned into insignificant
Baseball cards.

I now quote from - I forgot who.
"I am here before you to stand behind you
To tell you something I know nothing about."

Now -

I would like to return thru the rays of the sun
To another dimension or two.
Shadows of Roswell and K-Pac.

Well Amy; how am I doing?
Or are my lines just to prosaic.

I could go on - but I think you
Get the drift.

Love, Bruce