overdue

Stinking stairwells hide wet stars between discolored steps, smack dab in the walls
I have done things worse than swimming in homemade stone
Or divining by bleating cars of cast iron groves
No lover can touch a warbling jazz critter on the roof but
I believe in overdue pills buried in musty carpets of historic buildings
And neolithic weather reports and postponed haircuts
Splintery boards stretch out between clouds plundering time
Horror stories become shorter than cigarette butts in the prayers of children

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11 thoughts on “overdue

  1. I have a large stick that I employ
    to discourage
    less-than-positive vibes
    about the arbitrary juxtaposition
    of randomly selected words
    and phrases
    any attempt to restructure grammar
    is 100% welcome
    (THANK GOD FOR SPONTANEOUS POETRY)

    Like

    • I know a librarian who owns a copy of the definitive kobaian dictionary
      Despite my persistence, he isn’t going to exchange it even for a bottle of prehistoric placebo

      Like

      • I know nothing about prehistoric placebo
        I do have “The Definitive Kobaian for Dummies”
        If I had to pull something of interest out of the air
        I would say, “SCAT-YODELING”
        (+) sounds better in person
        (+) sounds better after booze
        (+) 9 out of 10 scat-yodelers are God Awful
        (+) would be difficult listening on a road trip

        Like

        • 90% of everything is
          godawful
          scat-yodeling
          sounds better after booze
          knows nothing about prehistoric placebo but
          90% of people that read books for dummies
          can walk on water but cannot turn it into wine

          Like

  2. may be that 90% of reformatory life is God awful
    —————————————————————–
    secluded small pockets of life are heaven on earth
    everywhere one goes—music and friends and nourishment
    drugs free of bloodshed and death
    drugs grown by scientists
    drugs that replace sex
    drugs with no need for socks or shoes
    getting jacked-up in the rumpus room
    stronger males carry ray-gun devices on their belts
    they pretend to guard points of intersection
    the floors covered with unfinished poems
    (walking on words not walking on water)

    Like

  3. my neighbors say that they can hear you praying
    for mastery over blank verse
    circles of thought
    intellectual happiness
    buying language on the black market
    ANYTHING
    but the constant parroting of paid poets

    Like

  4. “EAT WITH THE CORRECT FORK”
    I know those words haunt you
    She sat across the table
    super dark spidery lashes
    million dollar teeth
    at the library
    you caught her
    pretending
    to read a book
    wild ape-like fingernails
    and toenails
    and
    a burgundy-brown bush

    Like

  5. words that give the poet a euphoric release
    WORDS THAT GIVE
    WORDS THAT GIVE AND GIVE
    ——————————————-
    ——————————————-
    the lack of readers plunge the poet back
    into a even more bleaker reality
    abrasive underclothing
    flesh on fire

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  6. the unfortunate poet having poured out all his charm
    a tiny cubbyhole full of pistols, rifles, and shotguns
    things going on simultaneously
    brothers and sisters from Kentucky
    tribal societies—snake charmers
    poetry a byproduct just like venom

    Like

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