Friday, November 29, 2013

Wannabe Junction


cross 

(road leading to/ 
away from) 

crowded interior 

where out 
side be 
comes in 

(place to be)



Tuesday, November 26, 2013

Discriminating Tastes in DC


See the unsavory pol trying to hide 
His habit of pigging out on pheasant 
Under glass instead of tripe—still 
Under the circumstances, one has to agree 
One cannot be too conservative; you see 
The down-and-out still have this nose 
For bullshit that’s downright cruel 
And can smell when someone’s stuffing 
His craw on pâté de foie gras while serving 
The chawbacons back on the farm 
Liberal helpings of hogwash and gruel. 


Saturday, November 23, 2013

Domestic Violence


chop


another 

dark 

wood 


pile 



stack 


of 

smoke 

soon 

to 

be 


dis 

appearing 


up 

the 

home 


land’s 

char 

red 


chimneys. 




Tuesday, November 19, 2013

Zeno and the Imaginary Tortoise


What fantastic distance 
He’s traveled as far as he can 

Slowly each day a little 
Farther until faltering 

He senses the dogging 
Hard-nosed Achilles hard 

On his heels and prays this time 
His imagination will not 

Contradict him by spiriting 
The opposite way. 


Saturday, November 16, 2013

Morning Glories Skirting the Homeland's Perimeter for Mom and Apple Pie


Troops aflower ascendent 
Surrounding a white- 
Washed garden 

Wall


Few descending holding purple 
Trumpets shouting 
A hollow victory 

Call. 


Wednesday, November 13, 2013

Huuklyeand Cinquor on Burning Poetic Temperaments as Fuel


I do fear I keep 
Repeating myself but when 

Will the candidates poised 
For undying posthumous fame ever stop 

Feeding entries into their infernal 
Recycling machines? 


Moderator’s comments: I have no idea, Huuk, but I can venture a wild guess: As soon as a fire-breathing, flying white horse powered by an insatiable lust for the likes of hubris-driven, never-say-die flamboyant and fiery poetry hacks arrives on the scene? 


Friday, November 8, 2013

Revelatory


Sheets of lightning vault across 
A leaden sky on the dome rain 
Thunders down under the terrible 
Eye of the Pantocrator the huddled 
Faithful trampled underneath the crypt 
Remains sealed no one asks why. 






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