Posts Tagged ‘fluids’

Idiotsheet


25 Jul

There's an old word for poetry
and that word is prophecy,
love never the tyrant.

Counting headaches by twos,
poet understands his mouth,
only asset worth squandering.

Too many artists, not enough jobs
give suicide better odds than square one,
but yet, let's not explode myths here.

Not so much the free language filter
velocity of one's looking that counts,
especially among colored eggs and neon.

Addicted to reading overvalued famous,
those not, simply expire within complex
requisitioning, another agile bloom.

Magical or not, each capitulation among rags
ruins the poet, for antennae he really seeks
building concepts, pedestal to win favor.

To incite a pronoun to riot
is federal offense in some tongues,
applauding slaughter of words for clout.

Buttering bread on both sides of the ocean
is better than sinking both feet into wet rock,
where amphibious canons play hard to get.

Plump poets are knockouts when unsoured
but foul rainclouds of envy work overtime
serving up dual faces a beautiful stage.

Tragic skirts written for obligatory nude
contagious like electrons packed with syrup
into idiotsheet of wiretapped writers.

Sing sing the warm fluids of spring,
but remember trap and claws of stilled
phantoms buried in wide eyes of fate.

[ 2007, Washington DC ]

S A M P L E X

"Ignorance and virtue suck on the same straw. Souls grow on bones, but die beneath bankers' hours.""


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