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Whit Howland May 11
We mustn't end on this
note

so how about some food

a piece of wonder bread
piled high with hot tuna

dripping with mayonnaise
and compressed by

another
piece of bread

possibly the heal
which means

the package
is crumpled up and maybe

on the floor?
An abstract word painting
Whit Howland May 10
But I think the best was when
one end of the twine

was tied to my molar
and the other end to the ****

as the door slammed and wrenched
my tiny but gnarly tooth free

when one door slams  another
doesn't necessarily open
Whit Howland May 10
pistons gears
camshafts
pump rods and axles

all moving parts
for the greater good

a common cause

waves barreling
crashing the shoreline

the moon an undercurrent of energy
landslides beneath

such mystery
lurks
An abstract word painting
Whit Howland May 10
I passed
gas a while back

it was an old Sinclair station
trapped

in a decade long gone

now I'm running on fumes

in the panhandle
a place where stumpy palm trees

line the on-ramps to highways
leading out of town

Destin Florida
Fort Walton Beach

you can see your future
from here
A word painting with straight forward message.
Whit Howland May 9
Pig
I'm a pig
with a ***** bib
haunches

and a pork chop
dangling
from my grubby mouth

that's right

I'm a hog
who should be a dingo
or some other wild dog

but I'm just a cannibal
preying
on my own species

and if you don't like it

Grease Me Daddy
More Beatnik Jazz Poetry
Whit Howland May 9
Puerto Rico
named after Rico

who, on his pinky, donned
a diamond ringo

and pined for Lola
a showgirl

with yellow feathers in her hair
and a dress of ruby red
cut so low

blood and a single
gunshot

who could ask for more
oh Puerto Rico

you are my
LOLA

but with moxy
and yet you mock me

like you are constantly
boxing

my ears

as if I were a big
donkey
Just go with it.
Whit Howland May 9
The pallet and paints
that came

out of nowhere
may have been freaky

Was it an accident?

could be
could be not

YOU ARE THE JUDGE
YOU'VE ALWAYS BEEN

THE JUDGE

But what came after the paints
brushes, easel, and canvas

Was  The cornucopia

The repository
argosy

The treasure trove
That was

THE BOMB

an explosion of poetic
colors

red orange greens
Like a candy flake daydream

Of lush beuaty and Art

And art is truth, and truth comes
from the heart

And it's the heart
That gives your truth

its power
Some Beatnik Jazz Poetry
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