Wednesday, September 17, 2014

2 Poems Written After the First Gulf War

Oceans & Technology

Out here in this country of unending sleep,
I inherit horses in winter
and blowing hands;

above the clouds, and the televisions of L.A.
(where once a blue whore danced on a powdered mask),
a woman is broadcast on air,

a former debutante manipulated by plastic surgeons
and ultimately disposed of by parapsychologists
in the Pentagon.

Out here in the shadow of a paradox,                    
I huddle in wonder, decomposed but undiminished
while a hundred warplanes

fly over toxic foam (oceans and technology),
breast implants found hidden in the hospital gown
of a surrogate mother.



TelePrompTer


HOLD US IN A HUMAN TELECAST

TOP STARS AND BLANK EXITS
WITH TELEVANGELISTS ON SATELLITES

AND UNREMEMBERED HEROES ON BLONDES


THE WATER COMES IN
WE UNDERSTAND

IT HAS COME THROUGH THE WIND AND THE CLOUDS

HOOKERS BY BLEACH
WHITE WIGS AND U.S. WARHEADS

BILLOWING ON BYLINES WORLDWIDE


BLANKET US UNMASKED

X TELEPATHS ON TOPLESS HOUSEBOATS

THIS IS OUR ULTIMATE BUYER

PARACHUTES BY ULTRA LIGHTS
HOLOGRAMS BY FOAM















Thursday, September 4, 2014

Voices On the Other Side of an Imaginary Wall

"Till human voices wake us, and we drown." T.S. Eliot

The lights are out but I am still here.
I hear the sound of voices
on the other side
of an imaginary wall.
Later I will dream of a child
abandoned in the dark,
lost, without a voice.

Lightning flashes but the rain
brings no relief. I hear the gurgling
of rising water coming closer.
We read the headlines, day after day.
The world is on fire.
Who will burn?
Who will drown?