Sunday, March 21, 2010

Heaven #3

Hushed as a fishtank amongst the cock-eyed stars

* * *

The stars aren’t flowing downstream they’re static

* * *

Eating tortellini with pesto & just the proper shower of black pepper &
slices of Granny Smith apple

* * *

I suppose the desert’s just another big sky-blue American car you can sleep in

* * *

The gray sky kind of cracking at 5:00 a.m.

* * *

A humungous iceskating palace crammed to the rafters w/rusted
        Chevies
The windows don’t open & it’s raining

* * *

The stars hung to dry over Mission Dolores, probably
sad themselves; we were having a perfectly sober chat about
                                                                                        domestic life

* * *

Feeling categorically empty at the bottom of the well
surrounded by tarnished pennies

* * *

The mailman was extremely, one might say perilously, late that day

* * *

Somewhere it’s midnight in an peach orchard where Max is
strumming a mandolin in lieu of gathering fruit

* * *

Cat’s-eye shades that yearn to be butterflies. A yen for gothic literature.

* * *

A teacup filled w/evil conundrums & blue eye shadow. A cigarette holder that doubles as a letter opener. The mailman delivers.

* * *

A mirage, a gasoline stain smearing rainbows across the pavement
until it shimmers into a dim glimmery swimming pool.

* * *

Dilapidated hurachi sandals slapping anapests

* * *

Fire trucks

* * *

There was such a profusion of golf balls orbiting the earth at that precise latitude. You could see them day or night, marking perfect parabolas, with a yen to become true satellites.

* * *

A peasoupgreen trolley car an easter bonnet an elmtree

Jack Hayes
© 1990-2010

8 comments:

Poetikat said...

So many excellent images here, John. That hurache slapping anapests is so good - the onomatopeia is magnificent.

I must try pesto and Granny Smiths.

"The stars hung out to dry." Just delightful. Oh, and I love the "perfectly sober chat", capturing—what's that term they use for film - the pieces of a montage? Darn! mise-en-scene? Oui, c'est ca.

Kat
(My high school French comes in handy once in a blue moon.)

John Hayes said...

Hi Kat: Thanks! Sorry I haven't made it by your place--I kept meaning to make some visits on the trip, but I finally decided to follow Mouse's advice (who I met yesterday!) & "clean slate" everything. I should be having access in motels the next few days.

Hope all is well!

Soul said...

... I have a yen for gothic literature!

I love these Heaven poems, wish I'd come over sooner.

John Hayes said...

Hi Tomm: Glad you like these! There are more to come.

Dominic Rivron said...

So they're golf balls! I always wondered! That will stay with me all day.

And the desert as a car you can sleep in... I often get that sense on a nice day that outdoors is kindof indoors, if you know what I mean.

And the conundrums in a teacup... I often wonder, incidentally, if the word conundrum comes from the place of that name in Scotland.

A great collection of images!

John Hayes said...

Hi Dominic: Glad you liked it! These "Heaven" poems are dear to me.

Dominic Rivron said...

I can see why.

They seem to represent the world experienced, rather than explained.

They remind me of those seemingly irrelevant answers in Zen koans to questions like "Does a dog have a Buddha-character?" and so on. Wish I'd thought of the idea!

John Hayes said...

Hi Dominic: These actually are cut-&-paste poems made into poems about some more "contemporaneous" life experiences from fragments of unfinished San Francisco poems. Really glad you like them!