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Reproachable Optimists

Page 2

by Fowlpox Press

Histopathologic Exposé of Brain Trauma

  (Lightly Fried)

  Me?

  I

  Worked from Thursday midnight

  Through to Friday afternoon

  Woke up in the spring time

  With the flowers in bloom

  Yourself?

  Let me guess:

  You’ve been bowling

  With your painful piles for nine pins

  Stomach doing vegetable somersaults

  Live on the Sewage Network

  And for commercial break

  The world’s last housewife

  Will sing/wail through tears:

  Hey chicks and Charlies

  How’s your old man

  Still drinking bourbon on Gottingen Street

  With that skunk leather jacket

  And a farmer’s tan

  The world moves indoors

  And floods your toilet

  While reading magazines

  From the coffee table

  And remarks loudly on your

  Poor use of color and

  How

  Poverty is a flophouse rental

  And its landlord is Stalin 

  And the fight between

  Tenant and landlord

  Shall continue unabated

  Blah blah blah

  Until we silence the spirit of poverty

  Yada yada yada

  In utero

  But not to worry

  For

  This is what happens

  When

  The world and his missus

  Get drunk on self-analysis

  And reality TV

 

  Broken Record

  Got a lovely set of 78’ records here

  You can shoot them off the fence

  From the front porch

  Pick a record

  Pick a gun

  There’s

  Gene Autry and Slim Whitman and

  Some Sousa Marches

  Got a couple of shotguns

  Dad left behind

  When he got itchy feet

  And

  Headed south

  Headed south

  Headed south

  One way

 

  Shekhinah (Esse Quam Videri)

  Hello rat,

  Hello doc

  Don’t be freaked out by the drained, blue dog

  Body not quite attached to body

  Trying to sleep on a hateful loveseat

  Waiting for the dreams to slip under

  Overdrive

  Little external jabbing prompts

  One eye to open and behold

  God’s own light

  Above the wings

  Of cherubs

  Perched above a floor TV console

  Pathé record

  Trills through a shofar horn

  The bothersome, neat rat

  Shall threaten the smooth beater

  And allow the dog to dream

 

  La Foi

  When a woman moves a mountain

  She drags it

  Angles it

  And hoists it with her knees

  Then pushes it over an embankment

  Until it falls into the water

  The mountain top becomes an island

  And the first step

  Towards walking on water

  Palilalia (Trim over Squeal)

  In a simultaneous blindfold chess display

  The world was now rejected by the people who reject it

  Bastard’s muddle

  Motive quarrels

  Mama Earth has the Darmstadt blues

  I think it takes three pills not to hear the mind cry

  Child pipe your eye

  Could have averted it all with one pill

  Open ill

  At the Balmoral Residence Club Hotel

  I asked the wise man on the mountain top

  What he thought about Taco trucks

  His reply:

  “Taco trucks

  Might taste okay

  But will never pass inspection”

  Creeping Things and Fowls of the Air

  At a block party for no one

  We watch our city sink into an open wound

  We watch ships do-se-do with cars and trees

  And the earth whispers:

  Rise

  Perkin Rock

  Kill and eat

  Seed a cloud

  And make it rain on me

  Back shift manager

  With the third horseman

  On her forearm

  Gives overtime

  To her friends

  And almost no time

  To

  “Oh!

  Is that

  You

  ?”

  And the sky whispers:

  Face of the day

  I’ve heard your short cry

  Piece of flesh and Earth dust

  Too bad you and your three

  Kids hunger

  You’ll have Ramen noodles

  And no

  Meat

  We watch our city sink into an open wound

  We watch ships do-se-do with cars and trees

  We are wicks of light snuffed by the same breath

  Blight of self-interest has declared itself

  And marked the day with night

  Somnambulist

  Drop the best thing you ever wrote

  You are walking down a pathway only you can see

  Drop the best thing

  You see gravel where there’s oncoming cars

  Drop the best thing you ever

  In the city, bright lights replace beds of flowers

  Wrote

 


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