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Nat Lipstadt May 2014
Everything thing you are about to read is the whole truth, and nothing but...

she flew
via jet blue,
da coop

decamped urban lands,
leaving poet producing this
piece de (at-the-door poem-de crap) resistance:

Sad mad bad

where I asked?

a mountain in Mexico,
where purpled pink wild flowers decorate,
and the yoga mat is never rolled up
and post pampering included!

harrumph,
and worse,
exclaimed

NYC got florists
and yogi masters
for hire


with my sisters,
will commune,
hike by dawn light,
eat veggies day and night
and bone my body
with exercise

Manhattan got veggies, central parks,
and occasionally a pretty dawn,
bone doctors extraordinaire,
don't you know the best veggies,
grown in Whole Foods in the
Time Warner Center?

go then, leaving poet,
sad mad bad

to salve my soul,
know this!

I am eating
a tuna Swiss melt,
French Fries and ketchup,
Danish made with Danish cheese,
drinking my fatte latte.

This my stress,
so well expressed,
but baby, be advised,

I am doing it,
in our bed!

all day tv watching,
crushed neath an inconsolable need
to do all those spiritual things
of which you disapprove!


you went down the long hallway
at 6am,
you thot you heard me say,

Leila, you got me on my knees!

what was said but this:

*Save me babe,
from doing as I please!
See the banner photo of Mexico

tonite, by candlelight,
with white linen napkins,
frosted flakes and juiced hot dogs
in relish, relished,
on white mans bread,
sliced on the top...and that's just
for my
just deserts
Nat Lipstadt Mar 2016
my Mumbai woman

~~~

to my Indian poets & friends
all be advised,

my piety, my muse,
has decamped me for weeks on end
to your
yon far and fair lands

the red dot beside her
electronic signature
a sign of her absence,
seemingly to have been
magically transferred
to her forehead

so perhaps my love poetry
will become absent, reticent,
quiescent

or perhaps

it will build brighter, effervescing
in my very own Taj Mahal,
an edifice built by great love past
and yet ever still present,
for I testify,
I have many times it,
seen imbued,
lovingly observed
between a certain
men and women here writ large,
who there permanent reside,
and in my heart as well

spend a minute many,
all my fingers and
toes employed
how many, so many,
Indian fellow travelers
on poetry lanes and yellow dust encrusted roads,
in cities unpronounceable
that this illiterate literary fool
has come to know and multi-arm entwine

to you,

I commend and command to you
her safety,
asking immodestly for
an imposition, an interference

pray to the local gods,
your heads of state and highest nature's,
that they be her
beside,
her unobserved
safe-keepers,
as she treks your country's
Northern pastures

let her skin glow from
your brighter rays,
eyes even wider~wiser opened
by the newness of your antiquity,
your glorious,
poetic place
in our world
of words
as i bathed in the ashes
of a swirling monstrous din
the cries of  a woman
hysterically expunging
ghastly portions of an all
consuming horror
pierced my ears,
cuddled my heart

as i huddled in a corner
biting lacerated knees
i beheld ax wielding
firemen swagger into the
jagged dangers of a
metallic avalanche, its
voracious maw
swallowing last
acts of heroic love

as i genuflected toward
Trinity's steeple,
i was cowed by
the rushing noise
of a splintering tower
collapsing downward,
billowing outward,
a gray predation
scattering the proud
humbling the mighty
breeding terror
threshing anything
fearfully racing
through the city's
cavernous breaches

as i fled down
Wall Street
screaming adrenalin
outran bits of the city
cascading down
stalking, nipping,
gnashing at fleeting steps
chasing reeling refugees
into miraculous sanctuaries
shielding trembling confusion
in blanket's of grace

as i peered into
the mortal wound
of the South Tower
incomprehensibly wondering
what my eyes refused to
understand; a slow
astonishing epiphany
of the grisly hell unfolding
in the upper floors
was confirmed by the
intermittent slow
cascade of leapers
deciding it was
a good day to die

as i decamped
temporary refuge
i entered an unsure
midnight of a blackened
street joining a growing mass
of refugees trundling eastward,
our burning eyes yearning
to perceive a river of escape
hoping the bits of torn cloth will
shield nostrils and cover mouths
protecting tinged lungs from
emulsified ash of glass
and asbestos laden air

as i made my way
northward, enveloped
in ambivalent confusion,
shell shocked  by civic turmoil,
covered in terror dust;
amassing voyeurs
rushing downtown
incredulously asked
what we witnessed,
a Jersey Journal stringer
refused to believe
people jumped
from the upper floors,
as vendors in Chinatown
marked up bottles of water
and a barkeep of a
crowded SOHO saloon
refused me entry
to use the
bathroom fearing
contamination risk...

as i stood depleted
on Christopher Street
ATMs and wireless
phones out of service and
my PATH way home
shut down;
a Sisters of Charity
AIDS hospice
brought me in,
wiped the terror dust
from my clothes,
gave me grape juice to drink,
set me a bed for the night
and put me to work
in the kitchen
to feed God's children.

as i stood on
a late afternoon
Washington Street,
witnessing Seven WTC
plunge into another raging billow
the collapsing day ended
in a room shared with
a young man traumatized
by the days events.
We related our
halting incomprehensions
as the sound of fighter jets
circling the city filled
the void in our
disjointed narratives.
My roommate related
that he was on the plaza
as jumpers splattered around him.  
A tearful PA Cop pleaded for help
to cover the dead.  
It was the last request of this
trembling public servant
as a jumper crushed him
as he finished speaking.

as i fell off to sleep that night
my young roommate
tossed and turned
in the maelstrom of
a deeply troubled sleep.
  

Music Selection:
Philip Glass Koyaanisqatsi

9/10/13
Oakland
jbm
recollections of 9/11
Gaye Sep 2015
It was 3:30 in the morning
The aunt died, heart attack they said.
I only have a pale memory of her
The pink-house, protest and abuse.
Grandfather plucked us from there
the next day
The pink hibiscus my mother planted
did not depart.

She is dead today
I went to see her in black clothes,
The house, an empty aluminium box-
With kids playing ‘ring around the roses’,
Uncles debated politics and aunts gossiped
And some moaned inside.
I waited outside with few strange women,
They asked me questions
plenty of them
The anti-social me smiled.

The morning was usual
Mother made noises in the kitchen
with her steel plates and old radio,
Father forgot the fish on his
green kinetic honda,
Cats had a feast that evening
I did yoga, read newspaper and did-
not take a wash.

The dead body arrived late noon
in an ambulance with her expatriate son.
There was a sudden burst of cry-
inside- her daughter and grandchildren.
She looked like the fish to me,
The fish my father brought that morning
from the market, cold and dead.
Her daughter’s cry reminded me of-
an elapsed day in my pink house.

My father kept pink flowers on her feet
and prayed
I did not move, sat with the same chitchatting
women
The chanting became loud and it reverberated.
The body was finally taken to the fire
My mother came late, she wept.
The body burned down in minutes,
Dear relatives decamped.

I sat on the same chair
with my cousins
drawing the family tree, locating stories
and laughed over family jokes.
Then we sat tight lipped with brandy fumes
and cashews.
I came back home with my father
in the green kinetic honda,
I looked for the fish and the cat
I could not find both.
John F McCullagh Feb 2017
With wild teased hair, bright orange, and wearing shoes too big,
The clown abandoned Ringling to take on a new gig.
He was not content to pay his rent, like others of his “race”,
By acting in the remake of “killer clowns from outer space”
Nor would he do kids’ parties although he is no slouch
at raising fears that will take years to solve upon a couch .

With wild teased hair, a bright red nose and makeup piled on thick,
This clown decamped to Washington to try out his new Shtick.
With Eddie Munster as his pal, new laws he would propose,
that Femes, dressed as Vaginas, would vociferously oppose.
He’d surround himself with Sycophants but will not get too far
as, unlike his former colleagues, they don’t all fit in one car.

The clown claims he can build a wall to keep out one and all,
and he has a herd of Elephants at his beck and call.
He rules our land by fiat, as delay he can’t abide
He is a textbook narcissist with an overweening pride.

Minnesota has Al Franken as a Senator of course
And, back in Roman times, the purple was worn by a horse.
So  one might say that precedents exist for this strange thing;
for a clown to wield a scepter and rule over us as king.
The circus comes to Washington D.C. for a (hopefully) limited run.
davi bauer Sep 2013
It's so beyond cliche
Not reading the fine print
In one's close and personal empowerment
Then finally a grown-up solution
As substantial as any other
Whispering sentimental inspiration
There's more to all this
Than wandering through the farmers' market
Decamped in the quintessential
The less-is-more esthetic
Rose-colored glasses also?
Realty is the only conspiracy theory
That matters
'Twas eventide of a dead summer's day
Whilst prostrate by shores of loneliness
When a violent tide of love swept his way
And drew him into a sea of pure ecstacy.

Effulgent stars all decked in flocks bright
Sprinkled their timelessly ethereal glow
Upon a vast shadowy looming veil, night,
While floods of kisses showered his brow.

Dreaming of lands beneath the rainbow,
Lands where blossoms of love never vade
But ever as fresh as dew upon the bough,
Or sweet aroma of flow'rs by a glade.

Alas! Little the swain knew how to swim
Hence dreamt never turning back ashore.
But this, all this was but a bootless dream
For as thee and me all truly dost know,

Long ago, in that sea deep his soul fell
Doomed to sight shores of bliss nevermore,
For of swimming, love she knew well
Hence decamped out of sight evermore.


©Kikodinho Edward Alexandros, Kampala, Uganda. 17th.July.2018.
#tale #swain #maiden
Dew gravitates from the wild blue yonder
To kiss her lover, grass—but when sun’s rays
Come, dew indignantly to skies doth soar,
But to her lover doth return always.
And the waves madly rush in ecstasy
To their lover, shores—but when gravity
Calls, waves indignantly ebb to the sea,
But dost return in perpetuity—
Then, a soul of mine so entwined with thine,
To wing to rose veiled banks of paradise;
But along the way thine decamped from mine,
On yonder beyond where the sun doth rise.

"But, if sea waves and dew of skies above
To their lovers return, why not thee, love?"


©**Kikodinho Edward Alexandros. Jumeirah, Dubai. 03rd.09.2017
#Decasyllabic.
#Attempt at a Shakespearean sonnet.
PLEASE TAKE THIS LIVE YET AIM LESS, GOOGLY EYED, EARTH LINKED, HOTMAIL OF A YAHOO WANTS TO GO ON A SECRETE MSN i.e. mission. SO PLEASE HELP ME >>> JUNO WHAT I MEAN?

     scrawled about 150 years ago with me sharpest nicked n jagged finger nail while temporarily holed up in a dank damp dungeon before being rescued by scrooge.
--------------------------------------------------------­---------------------------------------
      Light snowflakes danced across fuzzy lunar beams casting moon shadows of absolute delight - at least until morning the morn o Christmas broke.
     Uncle sam and partner in grime (one union jack) joined ranks to rescue me.
     This bro British gentile ben (who likes converted rice) pull went on their beat, which result equals this swift tail lord n harried style scribbling.
     As evident dis lit writ fellow enjoys bending, deploying, experimenting, gripping, illustrating karma (his) thru words.
      That then ***** (epitomized in countless burlesque chaplinesque productions, dickensian tales, oil paintings some from artistic hands of great masters and others from anonymous exquisite painters, et cetera) remembered nothing of his birth or childhood.
     My amorphous gauzy, hazy memories solely comprised fragmented collection of miserable memories, which epitomized living a hellacious hand to mouth hard scrapple existence.
     Past and now present existence seemed a worse fate than death.
     The overpowering urge to survive as one foreigner against depredations of the grim reaper found me daily fending off real and imagined threats against daily/night grind.
      Yours truly dug deep within his bony strength in an effort to mustard every last ounce of strength to avoid the skull n crossbones that tried like the dickens to ketchup with me.
     Although cursed with nefarious fate in tandem with a measly looking specimen of thee human varmint, this then grimy, grungy, rangy, et cetera looking being clung with all the might to his five foot ten inch or so tall and one hundred and forty pound body.
     I tapped into survival skills and summoned willpower to stay alive and bear this heavy cross of ***** poor poverty.
     No matter a hard-core skeptic at heart, this cynic plaintively called for divine intervention to help, this human piece of flotsam and jetsam to cope with living like a junkyard dog - name o Jim Croce.
     In essence, this ignored and shunned vagrant frequently raged against the machine and found figurative and literal lovely bones that picked at mailer demons that tormented his psyche.
     While he traipsed along the boulevard of broken dreams (before the end o September came), a torn and well-worn shoe kicked a of couple pointed items.
     One comprised colorful jagged shard that in a previous lifetime housed some cheap fermented liquor.
      Nothing but crud filled the remnant of what looked like a ***** guzzling hounds favorite drink.
     This solitary sojourner never felt drawn to drown out moi sorrows by turning to the bottle, cigarettes nor drugs (a respect for thyself existed), though an automatic reflex found ma fingers to grab this eye-catching drunkard’s lost memento and wireless device.
     This tangle of webbed, weird wired mesh constituted a dullish metallic uh object generated by ac/dc charges, which turned out to be a heavily damaged MOTORAZR phone.
     Out of some foolish embarrassed instinct, I cradled then rubbed this remnant once containing some amber liquid of the hot ***** shaped stone temple pilots of the dogs.
     In mockery against cosmic consciousness, my mouth jabbered away into the mobile phone.
     No sooner did these chafed, course and cracked fingers slide across the unbroken surface of said bottle in with my cracked, frozen and parched lips uttering some plea, a crackle, snap and pop delivered a lifelike goddess.
     The mp3 player began issuing syncopated beats indicative per some previous owner favorite play list tunes on this electronic contraption.
     This vision and auditory music definitely brought a sobered Judy e shall punch to moi cloudy sense n sensibility flush with pride without prejudice.
     I clapped mine nearly deaf ears and thence rubbed mein kempf gnarled hands across nearly blind myopic eyes.
     A maiden suddenly appeared in plain view.
    Disbelief found me as some pretender to feign acting like a beastie boy to use said cell phone and speak in a matter of fact tone of voice.
     She (in a lilting, melodic and sing song tone) responded with casualness as like a genie appears (alladin like) everyday.
     General conversation ensued (albeit fraught with a bit of apprehension and self consciousness) before the purpose of her presence became clear.
     Immediate difficulty arose to think of one wish to alleviate grievous humiliation and immersion in misery at the dog forsaken hour of 4 after midnight, yet we carried and decamped.
     Rather than blurt out the immediate favorite offering for untold riches, I surprised myself and communicated a desire for female friendship.
     A gamesome gal who would surrender herself for cries and whispers seemed more important than any pile of wealth.
     Awareness and self-actualization about my utter decrepitude appeared as immediate deterrent toward attaining a bona fide sincere relationship.
     Nonetheless, This ordinary and reasonable ambition appeared as a lofty goal.
     Self absorbed in this rambling, jangling and longing of the body, mind and heart, I quickly became oblivious to an imaged or real corporeal presence, which spurred such an outpouring toward this ostracized and unwanted vermin.
     Eyes wide shut loosened tongue in an effort to picture the escape from pernicious malady and crushing blow of an abominable lumpenproletariat existence.
     Lips shut tight prevented the woebegone loss of what appeared as some divine trickster who conjured such a muse out of thin air.
     Upon winding down this unrehearsed recitation, a painstaking effort got made to open the eyelids very slowly.
     Wanton soupy pleasure ala a side order of Lo (mein), and behold when this nattering noodle ling manifestation in the actual guise of a gorgeous gal.
     She stood still as a statue, and remained rapt with attention.
     Provenance and providence found pleasure in prattled patois.
     A promise uttered to remain as permanent lass despite many who considered this writer nothing but a wretched pestilence of earth!
     Those comedy of errors leered at this kingpin of words ceased to punctuate one anonymous life with angst-riddled tragedy.
     Pleasant great expectations found all’s well that ends well.
     My ****** innocence, naivete, and nonchalant Tommy knocking cruise across the byways, country roads, and superhighways of this awesome World Wide Web found me sequestered in seventh heaven.
     This frenzied, mad as hatter Caucasian man found himself pleasantly ensconced with a down to earth woman, who playfully grabbed, man-handled and pinned down this artfully flirtatious fellow.
     Thine force-fed (with but a feeble protest) feasts of feverish foreplay found flaccid flesh to become primed for penultimate probing in the primary female plantation in that verdant tropic of cancer.
     Merry widow and 2000th wife who dwelled in a system with Windows 98 subjected this gentle guy to pleasant uninterrupted interludes of gentle felicitous ecstasy devoid of prophylactics for greater intensity of ****** experiences.
     Each countless caress upon thy body politik sans gorgeous gal begged to be fondled ushering (from the chamber of pheromone secretes) that pined to boot for her lil hills of Rome, which miniature towering inferno of ****** exploits dwelled in my over active imagination.
what a silly duffer
I am
yesterday afternoon
I put a set of keys down
when I went back to collect them
they'd decamped
that location
I've sent prayers
to Saint Anthony
asking him
to assist me
in finding my keys
he must be on vacation somewhere
as yet he hasn't answered my prayers
if the keys don't turn up
soon
they'll of made me
look like a
goon
I bet they are playing
a game
of hide and seek
so I'll be searching
for another week
tis most frustrating
when keys can't be found
maybe they've gone to ground
hello Apr 2013
I decamped my presence from your life
You never noticed when I first
Started to fade away
Rollie Rathburn Feb 2021
Generally speaking,
one should avoid transparent containers
when attempting to starve a fire.

If not adequately covered each night
they’ll start to remember,
it’s the dark which should fear them.

They’ll keep right on glowing.
Melt straight through their enclosure
and flee through the nearest open window,
to nestle amongst decamped cigarette embers
and hubcap shards.

Or rush East.
Shine bright in an oxygen flood,
resting just a moment
before collapsing into morning.

No one ever goes searching anyhow.
Once it’s tasted wild air
a spark knows it has no business hiding
or obeying.
It just goes right on burning,

After all, our blood is mostly heat.
A pulsing canter of something primal.
Craving variance in structure,
the unspoiled viscera
it can hear cowering
just beyond the muscle and sinew.

An empathetic sanguine resolve
who without temperance
would course hot enough
to petrify marrow
reclaiming it’s rightful domain.
in a grand gesture shaped
and honed from spurts of desolation.

A constant flux of beautiful half memories
almost touching a better place.
Futile lamentations reverberate along
corridors of times long gone, this papa
tearfully apologetic revisiting his base,
fitfully lachrymose torturing unrelenting
voluminous wrongs against thee dearest
precious daughter aware poetic/ prosaic

ministrations cannot substitute bonafide
nor ameliorate cumulative forsaken joys
requisite to bolster compromised delicate
innocence exhibited upon begetting deux
darling (wool worth more than fine spun
gold) healthily nurturing priceless progeny

two quickly grown to young womanhood
priceless offspring, whose treasured quasi
nubile kindled joie de vivre far surpassed
petrified plaguing yours truly (particularly
during pre/ post pubescent phase), outlook
grim to take life by the horns, nee apathetic

pestiferous psychological, frankly zapped
wracked, plagued aversion to live steering
any natural borne autonomy, (within meek
minecrafted muffled mortgaged self) bereft
existence, (albeit manifesting during latter
sainted days of boyhood), a death grip vis a

vis anorexia nervosa (robbing, stunting, and
halting critical puberty) against attaining my
maximum potential, nee then and every sub
seek went till present day truncating, stifling
raining aftermath of torturous, noxious, jinxed
insufferably hellacious, (hence reiteration to

cease livingsocial, rather antisocial) under_
scored, ordained, narrated by whirled series
of unfortunate events, (without courtesy of
Lemony Snicket), which passivity degraded,
exacerbated, fouled... gradual punctuation to
adulthood overridden when me as man-child

never tested survival, but found this scrivener
beating hasty retreat defeated by emotional
illness demarcating the Waterloo which I
fitfully fought when mandatory ultimatums,
measures, dictates...forced eviction within

cocooned hideaway (such as bedroom at 324
Level Road), which parallel repeated when
decamped at 1148 Greentree Lane, the latter
poisoned your welfare, with dire declaration
of toxic dependence (Zison's harshness) fed

deprivation, and desperation, while ye bore
brunt of emotional, financial, mental...fallout
indelibly etched within impressionable
Tabula Rasa, now the anguished suffering
ye unfairly experienced.

AU REVOIR!
Brae Apr 2023
Scholastic sterility decamped to a catocala
backwing dauntlessness.
You flicker in my hands,
mythic as the peplos
at your Prado stone-pooled feet.

My flint-flame Thalia,
I am the cautery under your brand
new fingers, the clueless mark
of your mad dash catzerie.

Tomorrow forgets you but for ivy in drywall
Jesus-toast imprints, your laughter in a hot slice
of ghost against my mouth.
Alias Adobe Jenson Albertus Aldus here
wed Alexandria (Algerian, an all around
American Typewriter gal) scattershot
with Antiqua ancestry, she told me
after I Aster while Aurora Borealis

shimmered overhead, while temporarily
embarking on long day's
journey into night
("yule Jean," I uttered
for no particular reason,
while taking a knee).

Upon spontaneous spur of moment
(not prematurely *******)
whim we pledged our troth
courtesy local Justice of the peace

at a pitstop named Baskerville
renown for landmark Bell
designed by Georg Belwe
in collaboration with inscription
by poet and cleric Pietro Bembo.

Whatsapp parent tis obvious influence
upon Berkeley Old Style,
plus subtle nuances difficult to discern,
nonetheless affecting one
Bernhard Modern as well

incorporating bankrupt trumpeting
apprentice Giambattista Bodoni
envisioning aspiring career as Bookman
titling initial publication;
The art of the deal.

Linkedin to aforementioned
aliens perhaps...maybe...
lost tribes of Israel long since
swept into dustbin of history,

a puzzling hyperlinked conjunction,
but with nebulous, mysterious,
gaseous, ambiguous
personage, and/or place
merely identified as Bulmer.

As iterated, we decamped
in proximity to Caledonia known to me,
a transplanted Californian FB,
who spent countless blocks of time
shuttling to and fro Calisto MT,
where pennies pitched into
fountainhead with Atlas shrugged.

Thee above ayn nee auld
rand (dom) blurb
invites intimations, yes...
viz pre Cambria yen
humanity awoke, where

sophisticated indigenous peoples
sparsely outnumbered,
they nonetheless compensated
minuscule population size
vis a vis did intriguingly fashion
(bug a boo)

underground elaborate Capitals
two identified as Cartier,
and Caslon Wyld
housing many a "FAKE" Antique,
circa Fifteenth Century
purported predecessors of Catull farmers

easily mistaken for garden variety
prehistoric Asian Tsen
Centaur re: yen creature,
what with Century Old Style,
Century Schoolbook,

New Century Schoolbook,*

Century Schoolbook Infant
teenage ninja mutant turtle vestige
aligning their (ain't fib)
be yen cool visionaries,
donning tortoise shell bifocals,
otherwise affixed i.e. born that way

with poker faced purblind outlook,
and whose shockproof
shell acted carapace
tricked out to unseen observer
as an eye opening spectacle.
In Times New Roman, I font
to hitch wagon to a star.

Alias Adobe Jenson Albertus Aldus here
wed Alexandria (Algerian, an all around
American Typewriter gal) scattershot
with Antiqua ancestry, she told me
after I Aster while Aurora Borealis

shimmered overhead, while temporarily
embarking on long day's
journey into night
("yule Jean," I uttered
for no particular reason,
while taking a knee).

Upon spontaneous spur of moment
(not prematurely *******)
whim we pledged our troth
courtesy local Justice of the peace

at a pitstop named Baskerville
renown for landmark Bell
designed by Georg Belwe
in collaboration with inscription
by poet and cleric Pietro Bembo.

Whatsapp parent tis obvious influence
upon Berkeley Old Style,
plus subtle nuances difficult to discern,
nonetheless affecting one
Bernhard Modern as well

incorporating bankrupt trumpeting
apprentice Giambattista Bodoni
envisioning aspiring career as Bookman
titling initial publication;
The art of the deal.

Linkedin to aforementioned
aliens perhaps...maybe...
lost tribes of Israel long since
swept into dustbin of history,

a puzzling hyperlinked conjunction,
but with nebulous, mysterious,
gaseous, ambiguous
personage, and/or place
merely identified as Bulmer.

As iterated, we decamped
in proximity to Caledonia known to me,
a transplanted Californian FB,
who spent countless blocks of time
shuttling to and fro Calisto MT,
where pennies pitched into
fountainhead with Atlas shrugged.

Thee above ayn nee auld
rand (dom) blurb
invites intimations, yes...
viz pre Cambria yen
humanity awoke, where

sophisticated indigenous peoples
sparsely outnumbered,
they nonetheless compensated
minuscule population size
vis a vis did intriguingly fashion
(bug a boo)

underground elaborate Capitals
two identified as Cartier,
and Caslon Wyld
housing many a "FAKE" Antique,
circa Fifteenth Century
purported predecessors of Catull farmers

easily mistaken for garden variety
prehistoric Asian Tsen
Centaur re: yen creature,
what with Century Old Style,
Century Schoolbook,
New Century Schoolbook,

Century Schoolbook Infant
teenage ninja mutant turtle vestige
aligning their (ain't fib)
be yen cool visionaries,
donning tortoise shell bifocals,
otherwise affixed i.e. born that way

with poker faced purblind outlook,
and whose shockproof
shell acted carapace
tricked out to unseen observer
as an eye opening spectacle.
Evan Stephens Jul 2019
Tomorrow the air
brights with
spark shapes
as sky fumes.

Beneath the
fire point pattern
my mind will be
elsewhere, pooling

across highways to the
airport where she'll
step from the plane
the day after.

Once the thousands
have decamped
from the green basins,
I will reclaim

the soft galleons
of lawn with her,
the grand marble
systems, rectangle

lullabies, and gallery
gardens, a new life.
And I'll tell her
about how I watched

all the new lush stars
that lived syllables
before collapsing
into pops of ash.
As the night closes in on the weary,
her, me, she, he
we all take time to reflect
glad we're still here in
what will become known
as
'Year One'

it's like,
the Bible gone wrong John.
the saviour's decamped
and we're all trapped in lockdown
in a block down in
Harlem.

was there ever a rose that grew there?
well I knew a few.

Good Friday!
what's good?
me?
she
her
he?

happy Easter
may all your dreams come true,
but
chocolate eggs inside rabbits
who knew.

— The End —