3.x.20
284
four poems
(including two
trumperies)
call and response
moon takes the roofs
and Mars behind
most stars dim to the
fullness
not even a little
misted
but here-and-there
glint
shone tin
night’s clear
rabbit, Old Man,
cheese, Chang E
and must we moon for?
Jupiter crowned with
its own
no naked eye from
here will find
little Saturn has a
few
run rings
everyone’s looking up
to see
does this moon of
ours have a ding in?
bats wings it
with a little whoosh
are we pondshone
bright to be?
every frog says so
pillow talk
and this one snores
one lulls
another is for lewd
suggestion
the pillows talk!
have a whole range
will you be first for
the fable?
between the pillow
and the slip
gossamer – you decide
here lay a head
and thought wash
nothings are sweet
but we have as well
vistas collected from
back in the day
dream suggestions
deeps of meaning
some pillows talk the
thing up
do an anxious
agitation
we have for doom
and fits of dark
this one’s presage
roll over
who will make the
first leap?
or trampoline this
all for one
and me for you
a special erogenous
zoned model
with Aphrodite’s
nightie
and a flying Spaniard flew
one will pleasantly
support
and does a lovely
groan
we go by Agra to it
Taj me a mahal –
(but that’s too
expensive)
prop you up
no, not the elbows
say also
bring a stethoscope
trick wits
part with grammar
and swallow this
it’s mechanical
with haunches
and all pride
jazz pillow
classical with storms
nobody wants the
poetry pillow
won’t let you think
would you rather Jung’s or Freud’s?
my side or yours?
smooth for the dying
here we have predictions
there’s ticker tape as well
contemporary account I mean
though much is punk
bid and offer
given voice
the market on its bell
get set
bulls, bears
and you go hunting up
here’s one wept for grief
self-sobbing
crick in yours
tingle too
everyone has a story
famous places
flowers remembered
everyone put to their own private
shame
and we’ll sing
of course the pillow is recording
too
there will be a DNA trace
and we know who you are
two trumperies
to celebrate the
corona-potus’ triumphant entry
into the Walter Reed
National Military Medical Centre
(Cretan Liar Series)
he gives himself an excuse to lose
privilege to breathe
the very air
sent
out of an abundance
of caution
in good spirits and
mercy mild
still might yet smite
it’s a beat up
fakes his own
why should we believe
it?
does a catastrophe end?
can we cram all into
a single skin?
this one has its own
hospital cocktail
sweet suite
remember decency?
everyone – even his
vilest foe –
is praying hard for
him
I feel great again
don’t you?
after Trump
nothing ever the same
a hunger of
bridesmaids
here at them
octopus Houdini
the greatest con artist
of the century so far
insult to the species
(among all others)
he is a one man
extinction
after Trump
(so aptly named)
what can be done to
tweet?
the clown pope
the queen cross
dressed, done up in tatts
the Virgin Whoring
Mary
there’ll be Justices
of War not peace
manic Buddha
Jesus on the make
Confucius say what
the fuck
ride a rocket cowboy
from now on it’s all
tripping up cripples
poking the blind in
the eye
feed the bubbas
stolen candy
grow up smug like Him
this is how time
there will be measured
before and after
Trump
compare him with God
the Father
old Testament time
spiteful and vengeful
and jealous and numb
the happy bomb
the darling bullet
these will save your
life
here, have some
animal rage
there isn’t a compass
at all
after and because of
shake your hand
and shake you you
down
none dare say there’s
no conspiracy
tongue down your
throat
and a grope
it’s like this
it’s a pussy grab
after Trump
nothing ever the same
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