Poetry Break #4
|Trade Time:||Aug. 15, 2007|
The Dow keeps dropping…
Cris over at The blog of the Unknown Writer did a brilliant post about the problems ANSWER is having with the WashingtOOn city government. You should check it out.
Yup, yet another damn poetry break, just cause I can! These are all by me. I need a break from the rants today, but I will be running wild on those idiots in washingtOOn again tomorrow!
One of my blog buddies, Dancy, wrote a post about family reunions a while back. I commented that we eyetalians call our family reunions weddings and funerals. This first poem is about all that.
The Third Oldest Cousin Meets with the Commission
On the occasion of his kid sisters first wedding
The third oldest cousin enters the hall to find the first and second cousins absent
A shutter runs through him as he realizes that the pecking order dictates
He is now responsible for the intergenerational representation of the cousins
Vis a vis the dreaded commission
He finds his seat, happily distant from the commission’s
The whiskey sours, minestrone, clams and rigatoni
Are served without incident
But the third cousin knows they are just bidding their time
Waiting for just the right moment to strike!
Will they wait for the cake to be served or will they mount their attack sooner?
Number three tries to close the shudders on those thoughts
As the prime rib is served the third cousin
Does a peripheral vision glance at the commission’s seat of power
HERE IT COMES!
The three emissaries of the apocalypse
Blue haired bringers of pain and unhappiness
Their footsteps pounding the ground in unison of purpose
Bee line it toward the third cousins table
As they arrive the buzzing whine of them harshly reaches a crescendo
Even when they are not speaking everything around them vibrates
With the reality exclusion zone that surrounds the emissaries
Emanating in all directions from their epicenter
This zone has been know to cause lesser beings
To faint in it’s embrace
The third cousin simply waits until
The overpriced roses of the centerpiece wilt dead
This is the official announcement that the emissaries have arrived
They go right to the attack
“Have you heard that your cousin has left the wardrobe?”
That would be the seventh cousin
Who had just come out of the closet
The third cousin stifles his first thought which is to defend the seventh cousin
But number seven had done nothing requiring a defense
Any attempt at defense would just be playing into the commission’s plan
With this insight the emissaries shape shift
Into aunt mary one, aunt mary two, and aunt mary three
All three aptly named after our lady of perpetual agony
The third cousin looks up at them and simply says
Hi aunt marys!
UMMM, do ya gotta bother me while I’m eatin’?
This sent the emissaries packing
Back to the full commission to report
The third cousin returned to his meal in peace
With the knowledge that at the next family gathering
The first or second cousin
Will have to defend the actions of the third cousin on this night
“Have you heard what your cousin did at his own sisters wedding?”
The third cousin never cares
He knows he’s not named in the wills of the Commission members anyway!
This next one is about the burbs:
Creeping Suburbia of the Mind
It makes you place yellow ribbons
And vote red or blue
And be afraid
Demand highway expansion
And cheap gas
Hire day labor to clean house
And lawn mow
zoom around at high speeeeeed
And miss everything in between
Install yourselves in mcmansions
and hide from the neighbors
Shop in a big box
and eat buyers remorse
Be what you wear
and think what you’re told
Dream of TV stardom
And rock star status
Feel nothing well
And everything overly
Read the best sellers
and recycle the containers properly
See the urban as problematic
And rejoice in your overcrowded isolation
COME HOME TO THE CITY!
All is forgiven…
An online friend and fellow poet who goes by the name Vix the Unpoet and I had a small disagreement which turned into a knock down, drag out poetry brawl. I wrote this poem in self defense after she hit me hard with an attack poem first. I would post her poem, but she would sue me for copy write violation. 😉 Vix, if you’re listening, I still love ya and ya know it! She really is a brilliant poet.
Th e Object of Her Disdain
She doesn’t un-un-understand
She misses the true nature of our connection
That we are alike in our history
Both having lost rents at mid-teen
We ran free in 1970’s art ghettos
She in la la land
I zoo york
We sharpened or verbal swords
On the bloated corpses
Of minor art thugs
On the battlefields of club, cafe and street
Did it make any sense to throw our words
In shards of glass fistfuls
At each other in rage?
Dueling couplets at high noon
To have one more go round
At running through the streets
In opposite directions
Half naked and bleeding
Howling in painful elation at separation
She un-remembers her words
“You are me and I am You…”
Amnesia by the dashboard light?
I’m using a shovel to cleanup my guts
Might as well make quick work of a well known task!
We’re too fucking old for this shit!
This is me
Cutting off an ear and sending it to her
The telepathic crickets are nowhere to be found, they hate it when I go off all poetic like…
The scientifically impossible I do right away
The spiritually miraculous takes a bit longer