Poet’s Market 2018

Wikipedia Poem, No. 682

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“Maybe you have to be from there to hear it sing” C.D. Wright

 

a bell 
long ago 
rung in fear
     
one with 
a thousand 
jumps 

a great poem can be 
wild nectar or a great poem 
can be scrubbed from the timeline

                        from 
by whom?                his moaning
                        to be 

how      i assume 
you didn't choose what 
you'd surreptitiously strike

one perfect choice what'd you 
have to not say
          about the young plants 

the end   so wild
      so abandoned of cherry blossom 
not the wild plants with a thousand-word long line 

and this morning i'm unable 
to plant anything lovely 
a cypher as if long ago the bell was rung 

in a dark mossy room 
ducks in marshland jump 
into the air and crash

a great poem can be removed with buck
and jump a great poetry book should be 
wild never hit one perfect cherry blossom 

if by cherry blossom you mean sells well
every day i taste a man my poem 
can be how it is assumed	you'd never

choose what you'd never hit one 
perfect choice nectar of the therapist 
the tended-to plants present wild nectar 

with both hands a great poem removed from 
morning is not a therapist is not a plant lovely
his dog kills the therapist his morning 
     
is lovely and romantic 
and his morning is not the wild nectar 
on the thousand turning silent eyes

so 
there is loveliness and fun 
the therapist and the therapist's dog 

kill ducks in marshland
a great poem can be 
removed by scrubbing

from mourning 
i'm unable to choose 
what you'd nectar on o reader

a great poem can be removed 
from the whiteness of the bath
is not led into a thing 
     
i'm unable to recall the wild never
the title of a long 
ago rung bell afraid 

one perfect choice what 
you'd nectar on a great poem can be 
how wild plants are lovely without us

and buck (he says you didn't choose) 
on a great poem can be removed 
and planted in the garden beside his body 

i wonder 
is there not a therapist 
inside every ridiculous yes

Cyclops Lives by Herding Animals

Wikipedia Poem, No. 660

w660-2-low

in ages of strategy 
find form of war  
         
                yellow highlight 
            the location i see before me
         six disloyal but touching memes 
     earn unseen-careful paroxysm of stormy sea-monster
made of myth ether and yoke upon yore upon 
fathom a revolutionary stratus 
the mythical canon can 
must mean grow

 

The Cardinals

Wikipedia Poem, No. 619

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      cedar's severe angels   
sing         out           boxy little songs 
sing a jumpsuited repair    man services holy
           angles sing holy logic       proofs with pencils     
rule         a jumpsuited repair man servicing boxy proofs 
with pencils neg       a jumpsuited      repair       man 
services a       jumpsuited repair         man 
servicing holy angles    sing      holy angles    sing 
a jumpsuited        repair          man servicing holy angles 
sing holy angles       sing out boxy little songs 
sing out boxy   little songs sing       a   jumpsuited   repair   man 
services holy angles             sing holy angels sing a       
jumpsuited repair      song servicing holy    angles   sing               
a jumpsuited repair         man servicing holy angles         sing     
holy angles       sing holy angels sing        boxy       little songs           
sing         a jumpsuited repair    man      servicing    
a jumpsuited repair man servicing boxy little songs   sing        logic       
proofs with pencils rule a jumpsuited repair man servicing boxy proofs 
with pencils ruling holy angles     sing straight
           holy angels sing holy           sing               
a jumpsuited      repair         man servicing our    boxy little songs       
sing    holy angles sing logic proofs    
   pencils rulers holy angles      each singing a jumpsuit 
repair man servicing a jumpsuited angle 
sing a jumpsuited little song       sing holy angles       
sing out fanatic proofs     with      pencils ruling holy angles       
a       cardinal   perched high in the        cedar's severe angles     
sing out boxy little    sing songs         a jumpsuited repair         
man services holy       angles sing holy angels           sing      
out boxy proofs      with pencil proof           rule holy angles

David Lynch (Was Briefly on Tinder)

Wikipedia Poem, No. 503

“To keep silent and act wise—still not as good as drinking sake, getting drunk and weeping” Ōtomo no Tabito

attached via ligaments
the helmsman who
helped your mother
into her tail for centuries

pairs off domestic pigeons
to brake and steer men
with vast attachments
to long lost lovers

lynch does the same
packing each scene
with centuries of fat and muscle
which formerly surrounded buried bones

the helmsman has rectrices
and is absent from the song’s brief, luminous life

First Barn Owl Egg Hatch

Wikipedia Poem, No. 484

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“There is a separation / between life and death / where [feathers] grow // and that is where I want to go / this weekend,” paraphrasing Padgett

screech
in green darkness
and 
stamp 
         my 
          talons

wet 
      leafy flesh 
the 
master has built 

there 
will be 
many bones

a small mouthful
       of mouse
      a 
      fatty 
       bite

Mary Ruefle

think like that
no like that

sniff around a burrow
don’t hunt birds

think like this
no like this

raccoons yes groundhogs
yes opossum definitely yes

think for yourself
no not like that

not the robin though
nor the house sparrow

here give me the controller
let me have a go at it

nor the half dozen finches
gathered near the volkswagen

put your hands up
don’t move a muscle.

The Heart Has Seven Miuntes

Wikipedia Poem, No. 442

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after Ron Padgett

bliss pure of minutes seven
woodpecker woody with
minutes seven has heart the
boring never
minutes seven only last you
way the love i
dissipating dust
invisible of clouds and
air the in
lines speed
fast real away
fly and laugh and
person bad a of
head the on
peck you when
woody you love i

seven miuntes of upre bliss
with wdooy wpdooecker
the heart has seven miuntes
never obring
yuo last noly seven miuntes
i love the way
sudt dissipating
adn clsduo of invisible
in the air
pseed lines
away real fast
adn laugh adn fly
of a bad pernos
no the head
when yuo peck
i love yuo wdooy

woody you love i
peck you when
head the on
person bad a of
fly and laugh and
fast real away
lines speed
air the in
invisible of clouds and
dissipating dust
way the love i
minutes seven only last you
boring never
minutes seven has heart the
woodpecker woody with
bliss pure of minutes seven

seven minutes of pure bliss
with woody woodpecker
the heart has seven minutes
never boring
you last only seven minutes
i love the way
dust dissipating
and clouds of invisible
in the air
speed lines
away real fast
and laugh and fly
of a bad person
on the head
when you peck
i love you woody

ssilb erup fo setunim neves
rekcepdoow ydoow htiw
setunim neves sah traeh eht
gnirob reven
setunim neves ylno tsal uoy
yaw eht evol i
gnitapissid tsud
elbisivni fo sduolc dna
ria eht ni
senil deeps
tsaf laer yawa
ylf dna hgual dna
nosrep dab a fo
daeh eht no
kcep uoy nehw
ydoow uoy evol i

paculum-spec2-sm

Source: Padgett, Ron. “To Woody Woodpecker.” The Paris Review. N.p., 1986. Web. 05 Apr. 2017.

Poem

now outside are scary things
out there children play
other bells ring out then
cease with mouths and thin skin
everything with clout is immediate and
blood waits for a bout below layers of paper

my dog watches a goldfinch
with her nose she cries
and whines complains
or does not understand the screen
a hinge creaks between
her wet nose in here and her memory
of sprinting
of the dry grass
on her brown back
of the unexpected
pizza crust she looks into me

with the excited eyes of a middle-aged
woman who in 2017 bravely enrolls
in an online poetry course
the TA refuses to insist
Frank O’Hara’s Personal Poem
has nothing to do with her
racial hangups he lost

his sobriety and everything
is unshakably out of control.