A Visual Poem
Transcript:
it’s an abstraction
these tell-tale moments
these double entendres
that make up what’s left of you
why does everyone have to be your friend?
Continue readingCategory: poetry
up your efforts
A poem.
i’m sitting in her truck
as she drives through an expanse
and i’m hopelessly stuck,
watching for the tells on her face.
my love is late.
my dreams always end this way.
tick tock anticipating,
still staring at a big stupid screen
with Sinéad stuck in the CD player
that needs to be replaced
but these days there isn’t anywhere else
for me to be.
cant get away, rolling
over myself again,
relentless, blistering, reddening –
an early Spring and long-passed petaling,
her ride, her music i’m listening,
lording
how many times before have i
fallen on my sword
because i was bored?
how many afternoons past with plans on plans to get
on track
only to find my way back?
more than the fingers
and toes and
Geppetto’s nose & cock can count.
life wears its hair how one likes just to spite
with a perfect white smile which bites.
//wd 7.29.2023
Photo by Mehmet Turgut Kirkgoz on Pexels.com.
lick rich
A poem for CME.
yummy yummy ladies on my screen,
more than McLuchan could have foreseen,
smouldering my sensibilities like raw limonene
being rubbed in bare, bewitched eyes
in a Ludovico machine.
i’ve never ridden in the back of a limousine
snorting coke off a celebrity’s caboose.
unlucky me.
but every day if i so choose,
i can watch the car-hobby show they produced
with that chick who specializes in rust repair
who was only seventeen when that episode aired
but now that she’s eighteen, she doesn’t care
if those bikini selfies of hers’ are out there?
die you damned bastard fly!
A poem.
i locked a fly inside my safe
to see if it could survive,
and two weeks later to my surprise
the fly still hadn’t died.
its incarceration wasn’t intentional,
of that i assure you –
i won’t pressure you with a confession of animal abusion –
but it just flew in there, that dumbass diptera
and, putting all semblance of a conscience aside,
from the moment i saw it hovering over the dirty dish brine
i cursed its damned bastard behind!
with wings that fly fast as it buzzes past
and irritates my fragile mind,
and a dirty sucky straw-hole for a mouth that eats garbage
for the supposed duration of its ironic adult life.
silly boys
A poem.
ready to use
be used and abused in return –
yes just like the Eurythmics sung –
ready to run,
like the Energizer bunny pre-Pandemic before he looked so spun,
finally and without any more ado,
here come the silly boys through the exit postern
looking like idiots and
still trying to have fun.
guess who just got back today!
and they would’ve been back earlier if their plane weren’t delayed
by silly boys and silly men
playing the grown-ups on a downward trend
and the laughter they receive is the attention they seek
because without it they’re doomed to be seen
as prosaic & weak, allegedly,
blowing their vape cloud toward a future that’s bleak
like they’re already willing to die at 16,
living tracks by old idols like Biggie and Mobb Deep
because that’s so super retro, you see,
and you never saw Tupac in any ads for acne cream
theory of a daskeman 