Posts tagged: SEATTLE POETRY
Inimical demagogues—
these stray bullets of true horror;
black, white, tan, albino, brown—
cancerous cells grinding rows of
shark teeth on a cross
street. circumnavigating
the cultured hate
of red state radicals,
meth head tweakers,
the gang bangers
and the late night lanyard
loving stranglers—
I cannot dance here anymore.
the streets
have swelled up with fraternities
on fire, filled with children;
wolves some say.
I say that animalism has become
a threadbare form of examination,
and I can’t dance to that song anymore—
I haven’t for awhile.
the beer tastes sweeter
the less crazy I get but my
walks home are filled with fear;
any miscalculated exchange
or turn could send me to an
auditorium blaring eulogies.
It’s like walking through
a tornado of gnats, that sort of death
is mostly just a nuisance,
but amusing to someone.
I miss being crazy
the chupacabra;
a methodical mythological
lancer of mole hills.
now, there is no such thing
as a chupacabra; only a coyote
choking on its own fangs.
DIZZY DISCO FACE-PLANTS
contort your cataracts
__
__________
_____ ______
to counter
to sheath
the interaction between
you and your private
turpitude;
that recessive binge-ball
where honor is not an option
and your moral fiber has frayed-
nondescript.
your sacrosanct shangri-la
your modus operandi
crawls out of that salivating slit
you call a mouth
whenever that mongrel
loses his muzzle.
WHY CAN’T THE DEVIL PLAY HIS
FIDDLE IN A DIFFERENT TOWN?
I want to walk on water with you
not drag you out of that swamp
with tied up pieces of bark
and W.C. Fields.
THERE’S A MAN IN YOU
RESEMBLING YOUR FATHER MORE
BY THE PINT,
THERE’S A GENTLE SOUL PRUNING
OVER IN YOU
EVERY TIME YOU GOTTA
YOU GOTTA
celebrate
the glorious qualities of booze
AND I CAN’T REMEMBER ANY
OF THOSE GOOD TIMES
I HAD WITH YOU.
Eat or drink?
the saddest part about any of this
is that every night starts
with the same old hymn
“Sink, Florida, Sink”
or
“The Mariner’s Revenge”
and then you think you’ve got
glitter in your teeth
coughing up dizzy disco face-plants
without glamour
without credentials
to back that hot ass up
you rock star.
you porn star.
you partied that animal
into a dead duck.
I’ll see you
in a month
with my tail between my legs
wrapped around a flask
filled with a fast-
forward smack;
another casual fisting by a bipolar tomorrow.
ALL GOVERNMENT OFFICIALS
HAVE SIMULTANEOUSLY
QUIT OFFICE TO PURSUE
ALTERNATIVE CAREER PATHS
DUE TO THIS UNEXPECTED PHENOMENON:
ALL FORMS OF CURRENCY-
OF LEGAL TENDER-
HAVE EVAPORATED.
EVERY ACCOUNT HAS A BALANCE OF:
ZERO,
EVERY VAULT CONTAINS NOTHING BUT
AN ECHO,
EVERY POCKET AND WALLET
IS FULL OF WORRIED FINGERS
SCRAPING AT LINT AND BUS TRANSFERS.
NO MORE MONEY!
I HEARD IT ON THE NEWS…
NO MORE MONEY!
I SAW IT ON THIS MARQUEE
WHILE I WAS WAITING IN LINE
TO CASH MY CHECK
IT WAS FRIDAY
NO MORE MONEY!
THE SPECIALISTS
SCRATCHED THEIR HEADS
UNTIL THEIR HEADS WENT BALD
THEY STROKED THEIR CHINS UNTIL
THEIR CHINS WERE SCABBING GOATEES.
MEANWHILE: PANIC HIT THE STREETS
AND THE STREETS HIT BACK
AT THE FIRST THING THOSE HANDS
COULD GRAB
AND THE RECEIPTS RAN OUT LIKE
BLANK SCROLLS.
PEOPLE DIED.
THEY HAVE A WAY OF DOING
THAT.
PRECIOUS METALS
MELTED.
I SAW THIS WOMAN
ON AN ELEVATOR
I WAS TAKING.
HER ENGAGEMENT RING
COOKED HER FINGER,
IT FELL LIKE THE ASH
OFF OF THE END OF A STICK
OF INCENSE.
SHE WAS LUCKY
SHE WASN’T WEARING
A NECKLACE.
NO MORE MONEY!
YET I’M STILL RINSING
EIGHTEEN PACKS OF RAINIER
OUT OF MY HAIR
WHEN I TAKE A SHOWER
MOST MORNINGS.
NO MORE MONEY!
WE ONLY BOW OUT OF
INTIMIDATION AND TO THEIR FAILING
HUMAN INSTINCTS
BECAUSE WE
HAVE FORGOTTEN
THAT WE TOO
CAN INVENT.
NO MORE MONEY!
