Acknowledging the Corn
Is to acknowledge the lobster too. To admit
the world knows more than you the man
jumped in front of the Jeep
he had a red cape
I thought he’d be a’ight. Is to recognize
this morning fixes the waffles with
rose-blossom hay green apple.
If you waltz with me “My Country
’Tis of Thee” I’ll bake ya pumpkin pie.
Later great mongoose rear her head
observe the moon cascade bluish
plunge the mountains. South-bound sympathy.
Allow me beggar bring you up from
the swamp you really in the clinging dress
laurel ’round the finest mind. I thank you.
Capriccioso. Me out in majesty endless
caravans departing from your eyes. Sheriff sew
the distance like a pistol
Dock Ellis just waiting with another
giant banana dogfart. ’Scuse me while I
go inside I rifle yer underwear drawer.
How can I explain my love for your fanny
unnecessary apostle requited in March.
Accept these please my apologies. Gray sun
early Spring accept blessings near the football field
the crimson’s crimson married to night.
Once crunk’d the feet of champ’ons.
In dawnlight concede my authentic
nocturne wavelength tree a mile wide
relinquish relinquish fog-fires fire.
Grant I may have vanquished
the wrong creature in the crevasse
when descended I did down that sting
came quick from the manta ray.
“Sunflowers” she replies. She ever
to the midnight. She replies ’plying never
to the question but always the Question
crimson the heart’s weary without.
A cool glass of water to the mind alive
boil it boil ’er bring the banshee moan.
Singers sing singing the joy they bring being
the joy they bring twinning ’round particles of
tiger & tomato vine. I gaze from the garden
the vibrations’ vibration. A man’s
a thousand questions. Clucking in the gloam.
The answer’s chorus rounds heavy in my ear.
Impossible sunset
like sunrise off the hamlets
chimes unlike hell over water in Valhalla.
for Whit Griffin
And the Waters Shall No More Become a Flood to Destroy All Flesh
Red house moan. Morning licks my chest
delivery man rambles on
’bout the time his truck was stuck
in the fucking mud. Oranges spill & melons.
Liquid in liquid confounds the populace
them it makes examine specimens closely
without realizing the tentacles spiral
from behind grab their ankles they’re gone.
I’m hungover from the scope of her heart.
Just now the sun crests. Just yellow
under circuited clouds. Just another
way for the war to watch me shit
when all I want is sprinkling rain
water whispers the occasional
bass for your face. Taking up the lighter
we laugh huckleberry for the mayfly.
The Sheriff’s harbors resentment
for his appointed tasks undone
this late March day so much possibility.
Green is the sky green rubbing all
the trees squeeze grass the dog’s tongue
her sometimes eyes when the light is blue
in the morning always morning.
Morning the one time of day I most
revile. Adore the rest really brunch lunch early
late afternoon evening deep evening
dead of night when only the owls propel
through the air indigo branches decree
in the forest the cordial forest scree
our banshee host we yearn to enfold
foster so we can kick back with
our Arnold Palmer talk about
pansies Genny Cream the why you feel
pathetic. You’re not unless I am &
friend I am not. The getting down
is easy. It’s the getting up the big really
get up for it get ready to rage against
not the light’s dying but your closing eyes
no not in Spring which is the reason
not the ultimate but one to move
more wisely for to trust when violets
robins rejoin us not for their pleasure
but to take in our chests one last measure.
for Andy Hughes
Of 1634
Calligraphy as pornography. A tempest
set to engulf these realms ’less we
convince the Minotaur to free the king’s girl
bring her to the surface. Unlikely. A-then we
must ready the lynch mob. Let’s first
sit down w/ red licorice & meditate
on silk flowers woodworking key fobs
the powers vast within the Martian mind. Plus
the irrefutable evidence which supports
my claim that sasquatch have infiltrated
our federal government preparing
an assault on mainland China to free
their brethren held within the Forbidden City.
Kitty. Pecked at to see
if they offer a key to the notion that all
cryptozoologists are virgins. Ever
seen the sun sink slow o’er Lil’ Heiskell
rubbed your eyes ’til blurred
the boundaries ’tween west & east?
Punch’o say you know the way.
Lord Baltimore fixing the Charger
for our ultimate escape
thru killer asteroids unstoppable plagues
robots who look human but are really
as I said robots. Bonobo puffs his cheeks
gives me the Billy Baru that I might
invigorate my game. Alas alack. Bullies peg you
girls abhor you I mean even the ones
who always fault you like the way that you
chime in the snow the season’s high man
I just fold so let’s roll cuz. Don’t drop the static
’fore you find an attic. The men
in sunglasses will unearth you. They’re
looking right now even as clench you your
sphincter to not let out the moonshine.
A tattered breath your first good grammar
eliminates any sausage press you might
inherit. Too bad. Butchers’r much needed
these days ’round these parts with the kind
of moustache you sport. The way the sparklers
especially shoot out green & gold illuminating
Ray Lewis in a Kaiser helmet deep
from the white girl’s pussy. This is what I dream
when I dream of Maryland. Dream
the serious crab cakes yet to be invented.
Dream a Chesapeake a little less desolate.
for Jason Myers
ORP
* * *
Speaking out through Poetry against fascism
Statement on the Current Condition of our Country (11/11/16)
books:
a print anthology celebrating five years of
Other Rooms Poetry
Also available at Amazon & Barnes and Noble
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"celebrating the concepts of the new avant-garde"
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