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
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8 comments:
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.)
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!
... I have a yen for gothic literature!
I love these Heaven poems, wish I'd come over sooner.
Hi Tomm: Glad you like these! There are more to come.
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!
Hi Dominic: Glad you liked it! These "Heaven" poems are dear to me.
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!
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!
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