toes grasping granite
granite grasping toes more like
grantoes grasping it
Saturday, September 11, 2021
Thursday, January 21, 2021
Thank you, Amanda Gorman!
Will the villein submit their
villanelles
for journal publication,
or will they say the hell with it?
Will submitting be a sour pill,
or will it be a jubilation,
so that submitting their villanelles
before a selection process won’t feel
masochistic (no publication
guaranteed, whether or not they say the hell with it)?
They just put their pecker on the
chopping
block and make the decision
to submit their bleeding villanelles.
Not that they have a snowflake’s
chance in hell
of competing with Amanda Gorman,
but after Gaga, Garth and J Lo sing, Into the sky with it!,
besides them and us and J Bi, to rule the nation.
So, will the Villein submit their villanelles?
Nah, the hell with it!
Wednesday, January 6, 2021
Anarchy Burger
I get my marching orders from
whom,
on a day when goons occupied the Capitol,
ordered me to learn that scary Vandals song,
Anarchy Burger. I’ll croon
it sweeter than a dove, and it will be my radical
choice to take my singing orders from whom
other than my best friend
Ulalume,
on a day when our lame-duck maniac
President sent rioting orders to his vandal team,
whom he’d already gaslighted
to their ghastly doom—
to them, dear and irreplaceable.
OK, so whom
do I really yearn for in my
lonely room,
do I adulate and light a candle
for, so much as to learn that scary Vandals song?
Someone whom I’m at home
with, who’ll walk with me into a better world—
who'll be giving me my marching orders from
now on, to have learned that scary Vandals song.
Friday, January 1, 2021
Ground Hog's Day
Is it possible to leave without
letting the door
hit me in the butt because I wish I could stay?
I thought I was all done, but I’ve been here before.
Always ready to help them what can't hear,
because they’re learning how to sing the hard way.
So, is it wrong to slam the door
on my only chance to embark
on my world tour—
dropping back in the pocket like John Elway,
thinking Ive got a clear lane, but I’ve been here before
with my nose guard
digging up flowers.
I thought I was untouchable, but I paid
a steep-ass price for closing the door
on a whole heap of genuine poetic
manure.
In spite of all my friends could say,
I set out for the west because I’ve been here before—
dodging Aunt Sally, that civilizin’ whore.
I know I have to live life my own way,
so I'm leaving and I'm not letting the door
hit me in the butt, either. I’ve been here before.