Hey, fellows, now that the O'Hare poems are posted, it's onward to new heights of glory in poetic form. I'm going to post about three untitled poems (they're from a series of mine) perhaps once a week, maybe twice. Who can say? Alright then, fun fun fun.
burning my teeth for cinder against
in the southern heart of the city.
the river passes me
the night steps on my face;
you say that the simple time of suffering
is raindrops down
I believe that you have left your
body on that
and have drifted into mercurial clouds
and have summoned thunder
upon my frame.
my mouth is ajar.
come on come
on over come
I stand in puddles;
stolen my face
and hidden it in the rosebush
the hallway buzzes in the rush of our trodden footsteps.
my black boots, your ruby laces, the hushed tongue and the rubber sole.
we arch down the white walls and spy the little girl setting off to sleep.
“daddy please keep the house warm tonight,”
listen and turn around and run.
we are god. we forgot everyone.
the living room
shatters and our
alone into the dim suburban
the little girl turns the light off and sleeps
her glossy green blanket.
a dog barks escape escape; moons flip over the horizon; lampposts bend; the curb bites and dizzies.
I fall over onto the lawn
she runs steady.
high the high beams,
carpenters and their
rivets, they spill
and the sky
is full for them.
I pump and steam.
the spirit of the twentieth century,
those men with rulers in their pockets,
listen for the drills,
the combines and the harvest,
the make and
see only so far.
the twenty first spirit
it is waves of radio,
waves of light.
wash over us,
wash us over.
it is pure radiant heat that kills,
and lives again.