El Sol y la Vida Frida Kahlo 1947 |
diarrhea alone will begin
to kill more and more
as future water
becomes as dirty
as money
and synonymous
with gold ...
deep in the slow doom
we dance in election year gear
we dance in election year gear
with a world watching us learn
we were never meant
to be as smart
as we think we are ...
we need
calendars without time
calendars without time
jimi hendrix sirens
squealing bends and bones
righteous ones
back from the grave
from raining angels
to the tiniest devil
root toes of trees
back from the grave
from raining angels
to the tiniest devil
root toes of trees
trumpets and violins
jumping jacks and violets
trump is violence, rod is ham
they both want your clams
and no ma'am
you don't really
have to give away
the taco but we don't mind
if you do, though we need
you don't really
have to give away
the taco but we don't mind
if you do, though we need
the ovaries
and the breast milk
in an aside column
this poem centers back to
clueless and voraciously reading
finding classics
are timeless fits
pictures, moving too fast
will steal words these days
from the right to left
audio visual semantically
romancing the shallow pooled
emotions most easily tended
to, fanned and flamed
finding your own voice doesn't mean sounding like someone
you've read per se or heard in your life or caught an exhibit of
as entertainment somehow in this picture capture grabbing
attention world of spanned shorter and shorter orbital memory
units paper money was really cloth money and was did away
with decades ago old timers camped under the overpasses
tend to laugh into the dark especially, saying remember when
and when alone and you hear yourself thinking in what ifs and
I wish(es) then listen because your voice is near precipice sound
and can now be found falling into fire and abyss as you call out :
the poems can sound
as if a nursery rhyme were singing
your wholly secret
roller derby fantasy one more time
those girls have strong legs
and these days you need
all the s trength you can muster
just to keep carrying on
in only three dimensions
running with these kites
of nostalgia during storms
without wanting warnings
or moorings even
you seem
to always end up
saying every place
is a place for you
when there's no place
like it home
EJR ©
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ReplyDeleteI wrestled with that last statement, going back and forth, from connote possession of warm nostalgia Kansas emptying or the real weight in the absence of a place like home to go back to ...
DeleteOne of my typical post dream morning writes that I will go back to with magic eye loose hands editing in spinning wheel wet clay words with fire and a bowl of water nearby ... shape and form, what comes of mood today ... etc ...
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