Agamemnon and Clytemnestra(‘ ‘)

Wikipedia Poem, No. 950

continued into that / which no one believed her / agamemnon fell backwards into the temple

blessed her fact
that no one believed her
and darkness fell

this little temple snake
little lick her agamemnon fell in love
with the prophecy

clytemnestra weighed herself
and blessed her fact with a gift
foreseeing the gates of troy

during the prophecy clytemnestra
denied the desert island
foreseeing birds

gift of foresight
gift of prophecy
clytemnestra as birds

abandoned the gift
the sun went down
and granted her a fact

no one trusted her with the fact
a gift of birds abandoned over denial
the sun goes down and darkness falls

this little temple snake licks her
fact that no one believes
the fact believed her ears

the sun went down
and granted her darkness
and fell this little temple snake

eaten by birds abandoned on her fact
the gift of clytemnestra abandoned
the sun foreseeing destruction

darkness fell this obligation
foreseeing the gift of foreseeing
the poet eaten by birds abandoned destruction

continued into that
which no one believed her
agamemnon fell backwards into the temple

and darkness fell with him hesitates
this little predictive temple
licks fact the gift weighed heavily

on her darkness fell in love with the poet
darkness fell in love with the poet eaten by birds
to be eaten by birds abandoned by the gift

her curse was astonishing beautiful and dark
this little temple this little temple licked
the desert island poet eaten by facts

abandoned abandoned on god’s advances
he placed an astonishingly beautiful curse
the future in her little temple lick lick and lick

into that destruction of fact into darkness
the beauty that no one believed
her astonishingly licked agamemnon gone

Welcome to Lotus Land (after Tony Hoagland)

Wikipedia Poem, No. 816

Maker:0x4c,Date:2017-9-26,Ver:4,Lens:Kan03,Act:Lar01,E-Y

Because therapy heals all worlds: 
Welcome to Lotus Land.

The workers
        the proletariat
        the sea-mines
        the TSA Agents of the Mind
                shoot back to zip me away from gnosis.
Their neon swims across my whimsy metrics 
        in the small, air conditioned room.
Whales tornado a hundred thousand phrenology busts.
Warm, oozing cherry wood wands my birdcage.
Me in the center as a campfire. Beeping.

That's why I abandoned the mast for swine.
There's too much good television now. 
A speedboat mustn't consider sails. 

Odysseus' men slither across their barnacled flesh.  
A thousand Athenas for the taking. 
I chase the abandoned speedboat
        then give up the ghost.
Sacrifice can make me whole again,
        says the whales.

The workers — using only her blowholes — tie me 
        to the television above her 
        polystyrene-smeared lipstick. 
The workers tie on her marvelous golden sandals. 

This cool shade sweeps me.
You respond now.

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