Poetry

March 30, 2007

False Villanelle

Like the sharp, bright eyes of a hound,
He stops, and only then does he remember
Me, on a trail, in the ascending November.

Autumnal Ashes, crimson ground
the Mountain Man watches, face steeped in the sun’s amber
with the sharp, bright eyes of a hound.

Laughter fleeing as I slip from each log,
Echoes off the memory of October
Me, on a trail, in the ascending November.

He aches with my every sound,
but fails to blow out our last ember
burning like the sharp bright eyes of a hound.

Kneeled down in Awosting fog,
faith that he will forget the smell of me by December,
Me, on a trail, in the ascending November.

Losing the nights we had found,
Mountain Man begins to dismember
with the sharp bright eyes of a hound,
Me, on a trail, in the ascending November.

—Lauren Tamraz Judson



Even When You Wilt

Even when you wilt,
the distance you create is dignified
and exempts you from the common grass
as a tall thin blade,
which rises up despite the wind,
and reaches toward the sun as it browns on its sides.

I want to water you, to fill your cells with strength,
to push against the walls and sustain the height of your form.
I want you to bend toward the light,
to feed from the rays
as they seep through your coat
and lift the smallest of particles.

You will bud and flower and seed with me.
I can grow things.
I can pull out the weeds and stake you up,
prune and pluck off aphids.
You will fruit and root and winter with me,
and I will drink you as soup and feel you inside me.
You will nurture me and I will grow too.

—Kim Barke

Superpharmacy of a Quick Moving Sale and Holy Ritual (Junk E-mail Poem #2)

O Lord of Heavenly Blue,
When the Going Gets Tough,
the Tough Go Dancing.
This is a corrupt and well-subsidized thought.

Lord, I do not want wealth,
nor children, nor learning.
What then? you asked.
I want:
a Complimentary, Brand Name Laptop Computer ($1800 Value)
a bigger gun with more ammo
A Strong Erection Naturally
And to Delight in Goodness.

Convincingly Real or Strangely Artificial,
Here you can Send books direct2YouR prisoners,
Obtain a repossessed Buddha,
And Expedite your transformation with no sideeffects.
To exempt those suffering into endless debt,
Päy much less for Originally Pure Dream Time.

It is selfish desire and anger, arising from the
appetites and evils which threaten a person in this life.
For example, oil filter for garbage can indicates that a food stamp
knows cough syrup is near Jennifer’s pointy nipples.
Banish the folly of rebirth thus beholding a $500 Shopping Spree waiting for
you!
The very purpose of our life is happiness,
the very motion of our lives is toward High Truth, unyielding Order,
and Complimentary sheriff/county repossessed Dream homes.

Remove here the satellite of the frightened.

—Michael Hunt


Modern Crush

Staggering,

No desires.
In the rain,
in my red coat.

You are there,
in leather.
So unimpressed.

Feast your eyes on me, stranger

I’m unimpressed too.

—Erin Buttner