Poems new and old
41
My favorite poets
Had their own problems—
How reassuring
42
This is just an act
Me sitting here stoned and drunk
In the chair
43
Hey, aren’t the zinnias
Pretty?
Let’s have another drink
44
As I watch The War,
I decide to skip dinner—
The battle of my bulge
45
Bare nail in wall
Where my painting hung—
Now I see the sun
Night as hard as
The table we sit at.
Once wood the
Table grew old,
Became a table.
Night, pressed,
Becomes morning.
1Hello at the margins.Hello Inuit suntan.That feels very dense to me, water.Grilling heat, goon of history.The ceiling fills with iceBut falls as rain.Oil is the new old gold; again. 2My legs acheWith the memory of beerThis time last night.Altocirrus when I close my eyes.In October it's still too hotFor a comforter. 3Man has changed the … Continue reading Icebergs
36
Hark! The dog makes the sound
Of someone interested
In my poetry
37
Getting drunk
To the story of Enron—
Alcohol flows like gas.
38
Untamed land
Just waiting to be explored—
From the five hundreds…
39
Swimming the halls of fortune,
Beset by the winnings
Of the greatest generation
40
Macadamia nut
Dusted with imperial
Gunpowder
31
Flushed Rhine has risen
To welcome our arrival
In the wine-land
32
Skyline sky,
Skybleached sky.
How many times I will describe it
33
Coin empire,
You’re running out of coins—
Guess how I paid for you
34
Sky more blue
Or clouds more white?
What haiku at this height?
35
Heels on a cobblestone street.
Oh, I can’t help
But looking
by the cbw Dreams set on recycle Rinse, but not quite repeat Corner, cornea: my eyes seem askew Lost in mazes of my sub- Basement; flooded by torrential tears A race is on but I overslept. Step by leap by bound, I try to recover If a penny was collected by Charon I’d be an unconsciousMillionaire and happy to … Continue reading Lasers
I could’ve gone
to see Pound while he was
still in the hospital.
But my mother-in-law hates him
and it would’ve killed her.
So I just let
the crazyman be;
him & Fords,
Jags, Land Rovers, etc.
One of the
must-read poets
said he couldn’t write
with stubble on his chin;
called for
a holiday for writing.
In other words,
a good time
to swear off coffee,
not to get too gassed.
Ezra Brooks
bourbon you say you
were drinking.
But why then
do I smell lime
on your breath—
I am not a teetotaller,
not a prohibitionist. I know
there is no cuba libre
for whiskey,
none for fascists
the world around.
igrass blue grassand green on the hillone an artist has seenmemorialized, made famousprotected & infectedwho sides along it now as a creekwishing he’d be quietbefore trickling intothe reservoir iiblue skies, blue skies & holycumulus not besetby even an ipod as it gathers water to sharewith the terra cotta villagestuck in song below iiidanger signs danger old trainsheathed … Continue reading German ‘Scapes
knock knock
I don’t care who walks into a bar
or who’s there
or how many so-and-so chickens
it takes
to screw in a lightbulb
or what the lawyer said
to his shoe or what religion
the shoe was
I’m not waiting
I’m not waiting who
for the punchline
of that joke you’re supposed to tell
all dirty
and when a phone rings in the bar
& is Jacques Strappe there?
I’m crossing the road
and you shouldn’t have to ask me why
Breath stinksOf brandy.The woman, the drink.The first girl I ever slept withNow worksFor Brown Forman.She’s still drunk I guess.
JBR.com 