30 Poems in 30 Days

[AChild]

5 day light savings time

sun priest of cloud
subdue fresh hewn
seed and bow
come reap
earth worm spoiled
out of den
crawling in the pity
puddle

this alter wasn't
made, it souled analog
turning up my goose bump
like a narrow truth
speaking universal
posibilities

my mother called it
the devil beats his wife
when the pink prisim
rain chased
rubber glowing lure
at the backdrop of the stage
i know its time to tear

 

[Tzara]

17

Hootenanny

You play our love like a ukulele—
two-fingered, strummed, solo,
a little out of tune.

I guess I should sing along
but these melodies fall in a bad key,
and I’d rather do the fingering than croon.

 

[4degrees]

29

your fresh redundant ways
move me along, following
to the tune of a Cali kid
once he sent a book and
a plastic folder, i felt so
hungry-a nasty junk food
crave that made up words
sated, offensive ones too
the words of pierre seize
my throat and speak the
narrow truth everyone
knows yet seldom can
acknowledge even silently.

 

[Tzara]

18

Nevada

She left a pile of underthings,
all sheer, all a little worn,
like gears whose teeth had rounded off

after years of steady use. When
I picked them up, they seemed stiff—
from sweat, perhaps, or simply age

or from the distance that had finally opened
between us, a high desert country
that is most beautiful when it is empty.

 

[Tzara]

19

On Medieval Succession,
After Charley’s Imagined Holocaust
A sonnet for the gentry, who should perhaps consider switching sides.

Into this cheerless marriage now is born
A son—a feeble boy who mews and pukes
His puréed carrots over sable worn,
Though not quite right in style, by satrap Dukes
Whose groveling, HRH finds mutes
Her blessing exercise. She frets it dulls
The monarchy, the soil in which she roots
Her so invasive vine. She deals in skulls,
And lives for scalps of the pretender queens.
But now her offspring seems unworthy, frail
As ice in April, and since he bears her genes,
She guarantees that her son will prevail
By slaughtering all children his same age.

It didn’t work with Moses; won't again.




Next day because I finished the previous one, right?

Or, whatever.

 

[AChild]

6 or you get me high

4 degrees a planet
words caught in
such cruel gravity
come to light
under the pressure
of the heavenly body
render my throat
speech seldom acknowledge
reentry voodoo
burning space frost
home again alien
this thread my ship
alien home

 

[4degrees]

30

certain words in corresponding times
such powerful mood altering substances
some like cold blades sliding heavy
across my guiltless skin while others
more like a strong smell from years before
that i'll never shake
maybe like this weight i've gained
it's alright to be a man with a belly
so long it's never in the way
all the sucralose and processed fakes
leave me distended but not too much
because i still can sense the quiver
deep in my guts when a poet does
that verbal forensic mashup
the right beat is better than
any porn of yesterday
not that i don't still try but
you always get me high.

 

[AChild]

7

any porn of yesterday

addict at it
my masturbatory mood
swings flesh against flesh song

the jehovah friend
tole me that self love
will take a step from my
love dance

my girlie
is the dream
she runs
from the balcony to watch
smiling as I touch her
pleasure

taking note
for the next lay down

 

[Tzara]

20

Poem for Marichiko

The night is too long only
When I am away from your body,
Warmed solely by a duvet, backed
Against rolled pillows.
This is why the night is sleepless.
This is why the road is too long.

 

[Tzara]

21

Luxurious Natural Fibers of the Andes

fit the model's body like a robe
of single color, a bland one
meant to blend into the planar schist

instead of document the tapered ribs
and narrow waist of some Henrik,
glassy-eyed but as still as spoiled lust

in the photographer's frame.
One wonders whether Henrik spits,
at other models, stingy dates,

where he tolerates a touch
(not in the wallet, in any case)
whether warks or shrieks emit

between his slim lips and veneered teeth.
What surely is a certainty
is that he drops his dung on the common heap.

 

[AChild]

8

I can do what I want

in sleep
in real time
the reactions to the
process wane
I gain different parts
changing water constant
in repose
happy

 

[AChild]

9

After midnight
I sweat dreams
honey with the
good ass
rubs my rubbed raw

collecting some serious
inferior deep mojo
nothing like the 3 yo clock
mantra

craving just a bit
of that wild man
grizz dance
thumpin just another part
of the new machine
old mutant
till trying to pull down towers
profane control collecting
letting words blast like semen

trying be the rough hewn
psycho with the matching socks

 

[Tzara]

22

Philosophy in the Bathroom
Title cribbed and bent from Sade

Leaning on the doorframe, watching
As you raise each slim limb in turn,
You may wonder at my silence, my
Glass-eyed contemplation of your task,
And think I have lost my tongue to ordinary lust.
Know then that I am but dumb with pondering
One of the great, the eternal questions—
Would I rather be the razor or the cream?

 

[AChild]

10

tres onces

Love is not coming on the hour
instead we make love in capture

dancing with the moon
pushing her to frame
on the ground
through the light tunnel
pouring rey
bruise purple corona of
the cloud shield
my earth is all orange
city light

while she above
is steel blue
cutting up all
my sore leg steps.

 

[Tzara]

23

Sonnet

Another night, another love note penned
To she whom I will likely never meet,
And never should, lest some dispassion creep
Into our more-than-friendship and it end.
Imagined love can only flex and bend
So far—its mettle’s only paper, cheap,
Subject to sudden flame but little heat.
Once torn it is impossible to mend.
Yet here’s another song, a poor one, raised
To her distant beauty and my lust.
I’ll strive not to just routinize my praise,
And fan our weak old flame with smut and mush
In hopes that I’m not stirring deadened ash,
But even then I’d stir, because I must.

 

[AChild]

11

slo dance
to the music
of your
favorite wicked
hero

 

[Tzara]

24

Le cordon bleu

With so many women I am flat
as unleavened bread, suitable
only to be served in the Eucharist,

for then it is not my body
that is taking part. But when you whisk
together my few ingredients,

how I easily become soufflé,
rising toward your gentle fork
to be delicately devoured.

 

[bluerains]

Le cordon bleu

With so many women I am flat
as unleavened bread, suitable
only to be served in the Eucharist,

for then it is not my body
that is taking part. But when you whisk
together my few ingredients,

how I easily become soufflé,
rising toward your gentle fork
to be delicately devoured.

so sweetly I view ....no mistake

 

[AChild]

12

the black cat is on the highway
because the coyote is in the grass
I'm gaining on the hill
pausing though the sweat
shield from people who
used to know me
there is nothing sacred
like a trust lost
like a lover bent
beyond repair
this shattered connection
where the emotions
would converge is
just another empty
bottle on the way
to being drunk
no words can work
all logic is unemployable

 

[Tzara]

25

blackjack

crow flips damp maple leaves
over like playing cards,

stabs a grub
caws at the overhanging tree

saying to his dealer, wind or God,
hit me, hit me

 

[AChild]

13

I don't want the drug anymore
I just want the high
I don't want the hangover, side effect
just the pure energy,
the pure positive

I want the dose
that puts the glow back
like
carrot sticks or morning sex
but a more proactive
pull on the endorphins
draw up my serotonin
for the rest of my life line

I'll use all my good up
now and never sleep again
when I come to the end
of my days I will be a beauty
only woke by the kiss of death

 

[Tzara]

26

no title

thwop, thwop, thwop
flicker hammers my windowsill—
do we have termites?

 

[AChild]

14

dream added rotation
to the reams of
head games
it's only peace if you yourself will it

if not its just another workday
another puzzle
another piece of chaos

The coworker asked me what is my peace of mind?
I said out of 10? 2
never want it
never want to satisfaction
to put the fire out

always want the projection of
putting order to chaos

 

[Tzara]

27

Candy Apple Red

I was talking to my wraithlike mother
when Death shuffled in
and pinched her cheek

like a it was a berry in an orchard
that he owned. I yelled at him, but still
her life came off in strips

like bark or that nitrate celluloid
no one can smoke around
because any flame will fucking blow you up.

Mom said she loved me
as she peeled away
and I waved at her as she left, wondering

if her ’68 Mustang was really full vintage
and whether I’d have to split the auction price
with my brother.

 

[AChild]

15

my heros
need to put out
before I stand
to clap