Wednesday, December 31, 2014

Literary Manners


Thwarted is a word our poet could use
Such as he was thwarted by laundered
Underwear she left hanging from various
Light fixtures or maybe his libido was
Thwarted in the exalted realm of the boudoir
Or perhaps his desire is a knife sunk half
Deep into his thwarted dreams yet our poet 
Will be content and grow his beard long
Enough to be shaved long enough to thwart
A lover’s pale cheek and a lover might
Express herself in a sharp gesture of disgust
Because she hates plants despises them
Since spending a toilsome season among
Confrontational flowers that love thwarted


Tuesday, December 30, 2014

A Song that It May Rain


It is a shining thing! this place in the world
Where we are possible where we
Luckily sometimes find us when we miss us

Nor do we spare our wrath upon our deluded shoes
We who run amok waving our arms
We who jump madly up and down

First come low clouds then comes thunder
We are the lightning flash charmed by us
It is written in the dim sky with even dimmer letters

We scale these words we climb them one by one
We who embody so many things
We amazed by other things unfolding one by one

Be fair! if we weren’t here
What would the birds and trees be
What would the season be without us?

We translate eternity into days into skies
We translate eternity into lightning flashes
We translate eternity into words for others

We follow a path mapped by the heart
It always leads us here long before we are born
It always leads us here where we make love bleed

This place where we meet is a thirty-first of December
This place is where things always end one after another
Softened in the glimmer of a candle

Beyond this vision beyond the silence that listens
There are moments when we admit our love
Breathes only when the lightning flashes


Wednesday, December 24, 2014

Song for Lovers Thirsty in Their Drained Beds


Blood—my dear—red blood is quite
Exiguous here in this desert of stones
Where zouaves wander in their ragged
Homeless battalions flanked by a troop
Of cats toting tattered flags and ensigns
Look! here’s the sky that drowned itself
For no good reason O this is all so very
Incomprehensible so indecipherable
Just take another step let's keep walking
One day we will find the root and vine
The most beautiful jungle of madness
We will find footprints there yes it is true
They will sweat blood but we won't beg
For they will have so little to give

Tuesday, December 16, 2014

Your Veins Use Up All the Red in the World


How strange and wild you look!  please
Give me an apple why don’t you give
Me Karen Carpenter all hopped up
On Sonic Youth baby baby baby O baby
I really do wish you’d leave twenty dollars
Between all my pages but don't leave
My tongue tied to your velvet fate
O velveteen stop breaking my book spines
Stop dancing the cluttered music's done
If you discard me I’ll part night’s dark hairs
With my voice O ain’t it funny how strange
And wild things can look sometimes
The sun leaves us wide-eyed and alone
Our tongues behung with sweet fetid songs

Sunday, December 14, 2014

Frank O’Hara Sits in a Vicksburg Bar


Ignoring the fresh vodka tonic at his elbow
But peering intently at his right hand
The thumb and forefinger of which
Pinch a hair plucked from the left
Nostril of that glorious nose

O why did you come to this phlegmatic town?

I have come to feel the sweet
Fetid dust of its breath on my lips!  
I have come to wander drunkenly here!
Why did I come? I have come to rule!