My current trend in writing is to treat it like bits of code. Debugging as time goes on (fixing spelling/grammarish issues).

Most of these poems will rest the way they are written, but given time and interest many will see a patches or 2 before it is over.

10.19.2006

morning wood

the street scene is busy
  trucks
  cars
  pants
  wires
  tires
  cranes
  skirts
the 9th avenue is blocked
with a creosote soaked trunk
  fresh as frozen peas
  as pie a la mode in tinfoil
  as the soda can tab clicks open

the street team pooled
around the truck
cigarette advert perfect
their machine was angling
erecting the former tree
right next to our current
  overgrown bean pole
  cable carrier cross
  squirrel highway, crows rest

in the broadest of days
he arrived clad in the Scottish garb
twisted around the eddy of the current of today
designed to hold a six pack in one pocket
made for when the hammer slams
rather than when the bags pipe
or the club swings over the green,
4
woman in pants
on our front porch
greeted this man
in a classically cult skirt
greeted him with nary a thought
for his cloth

but the mash of working bees
peeked upon this
  as if it was absurd
  as if it was a puzzle with pieces that didn't fit
  as if those legs where shaved
the team just stopped dread
unable to parse
unable to erect
their pole propping
day was
swangled by a dude in a kilt

0 Comments:

Post a Comment

<< Home