Archive for July, 2009

Poems in the Pocket

Let’s not set the bar unsustainably high
you can disappoint them afterwards

isolating my track
sexual predator cat
soy bomb

love before caffiene is unconscionable
I can’t hear anything
I’m not connected
a cinder block wall in the middle of nowhere
I’m about to get an attitude

We were on our own scratchy island of red ants
when you eat lunch
with the queers
you know you’re a queer
victims of the bulldozer *
Going the other way
is always an option

I’m still looking for something
nothing says fun
like knives
crashing into portapotties
the Les Paul feels great in the hands too

Conversations cascade around the room
cops playing dress up
little girls shoes and stains
obnoxious middle aged women
fucked up fascination
It’s always 8:10 at Mom’s Diner

I put a fish poem in my pocket
It was fine until it got dry again
poppin and flabby – raggaefied

If you can initiate I can do it
I need to lay down the tracks in my brain
Shiny always sells

We’re running out of daylight
The birds, the cats and the Big Mac
the birds each get a meat patty
The cats never had a chance
kinda sad

Now it’s really MY turn

The crazy white bitch with the chain saw
I was playing with my Les Paul
the Mac Daddy of guitars
It can’t get any tighter

I didn’t know I had an option
I got its name in my pocket
Book of sparks
comfort knives
sensor in road
That cat’s half in the bag.

WeBiLo 6-14-09

* Philip DeLoach


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