Wikipedia Poem, No. 681
the belly converts jealousy
to the plants’ eyes roll
my wife from under
the bed exposed and melts
into black coffee like the
songbird she is
all that mighty oneself
one sees stretch online
glassed by the trees
its easy eye
and wine glasses
lost in branches
by the pain that’s
her sea bottom
home for suede
from love you
see selfless be
seawine in a park
ing lot terrible
things how much love
is parking one
sees measure sees
is what one sees
oneself flash io
no longer seen
A note for readers: Each occurrence of an asterisk in the following poem represents one slow, deliberate breath in through the nose (at least three seconds) and out through the mouth (at least three seconds). Silently count each inhale and each exhale. You are permitted to think about anything at all during that time.
washed the boy around photoreceptors the charming audio the particular order of a baroque story gathered beside hair around such magnificent photoreceptor density the forestage animal-watch these animal sounds through hyper-baroque storytelling * gather boys the effects of living blue eyed doves and such as such as ammonite political sweetness my wings perceive something blue eyes he twists listening on the boy in fancy dress the poet expects listening blue eyed doves such magical upheaval upheaval upheaval upheaval * * * english fancy dress symbolism panel justice boys used on the air sounds photoreceptor thighs que story gather round boys use the crickets bloody death outspreaders don't be shy who are these animal cruelties among you orpheus such magical upheaval english fancy dress my wings perceive something blue eyes twist like political upheaval upheaval upheaval * * * english fancy dresses poet and never look back orpheus charming as a hyperbaroque story gathered like wildflowers boy with no insect parts like rainfalling the recording booth i mean garageband's code hung like draperies all another boy used was the monastery between its thighs on tour (such magical upheaval english boys dressed like symbolism for christmastime panels filled just with boys in fancy dress symbolism used in the composition of blue eyed doves subduing on a mogul josias murer's danger-room i mean garageband's code hung like draperies all the crickets bloodparts insect legs turn from the crow an avuncular order then cruelty auditory charm blue eyes twisted living noise cardinal wings perceive some thick round noise by rubbing blue eyed doves such magical upheaval english fancy dress symbolism boy upon fired ink all the recording hyper noise recording baroque stories gathered breasts used on the monastery crow artist as auditor is a baroque story gather baroque boys to such magical effect upheaval upheaval upheaval * * * english fancy symbolism just any boy copy and pasted in crows gathered at the forestage cone density through hypertext and expects living noise by the rubbing together the phasing through of ora serrata perceive something blue eyed doves subduing death or are they crows outspread wings perceive something together handheld boy on the free monastery tour (such magical upheaval english fancy drapes
warm we link arms before the brawl breaks our ranks we touch again ineffectual fist to ineffectual face we are touched again to be peeled apart sprayed toward sobbing and held again in rapturous pain do you remember now singing by torchlight? do you remember the strange sounds of which we are capable? the moan the mutter the laugh around campfire and when campfires tamp and glow and our bodies just cool of a blister kind and momentary sister to sister brother to brother all else like a staircase rises up or helps us descend in time it is a struggle to keep cool to fight with one's own fire the necessary stoke and recoil.
You have your skinny pants that you never wear
but that are the barometer. You have your fat pants
that you wear more than you need to. You have your
period pants that are dark and thick and forgiving
You have your period panties.
I have a new resolution not to wear my period
panties at non-period times. I have gotten into the
habit of wearing only my period panties and pretty
much never wearing my other panties, my nice
panties. My resolution is to wear nice panties every
day, even the days I don’t think l’m going to have sex,
even on the days when l’m going to ride my bike.
Once, in the locker room at the YWCA after tot
swim class, I saw another mom who was wearing
beautiful, chic mocha panties and a matching bra
even though she had just come from swim class and
had a kid. The panties and bra looked French, and so
did the mom. I swore right there and then to wear
my nice panties every day, even though my nicest
panties aren’t as nice as those panties were.
But then I got pregnant again and never felt like
wearing nice panties.
So that was three years ago. Exactly three years and
I am finally hoping to make good on my promise of
Thus far I have kept my nice panties promise for
about a week and a half. It’s been difficult. Almost
every day I reach for my period panties but I haven’t
relented. It does feel good to wear nice panties,
though it pains my heart to get on a bike or go to
sleep without sex when I am wearing them.
Even when the nice panties are not two-hundred-
dollar hand-washable silk tap pants, nice panties
are a conundrum.
If you enjoyed this poem, please support the poet and purchase Arielle Greenberg’s fascinating, honest, nuanced and insightful book “Locally Made Panties”.
Big chocolate My wife found one on the internet With only one foot
they move today as was written hold that sound against one of they move today dog hyper-aware and read by complex formations me she or has gone they move today perspicuous improvisational solo explain more clearly they move today it is being written hold it against one's patience they move today for difference radiates one of us curious dog
I was sausage master of Minsk; young girls brought parsley to my shop and watched as I ground coriander, garlic and calves’ hearts. At harvest time they’d come with sheaves: hags in babushkas, girls plump as quail, wrapped in bright tunics, switching the flanks of oxen. Each to the other, beast and woman, goggle-eyed at the market’s flow. My art is that of my father: even among stinking shepherds, bean- brained as the flocks they tend, our sausages are known. The old man sits in back, ruined in his bones, a scold. So it was my trade brought wealth. My knuckles shone with lard, flecks of summer savory clung to my palms. My shop was pungent with spiced meat and sweat: heat from my boiling pots, my fretful labors with casings, expertly stuffed. Fat women in shawls muttered and swabbed their brows. Kopeks made a racket on my tray. But I would have none of marriage: the eldest son, no boon, even with the shop’s renown, was I to my parents. Among mothers with daughters, full-bottomed, shy, I was a figure of scorn. In that season when trade was a blur, always, from the countryside, there was one, half-formed, whose eyes, unlike the haggling matrons’ squints, roamed and sometimes found my own. And of her I would inquire. Before seed-time they always returned. Tavern men speak freely of knives, of this, of that. Call me a fool. For in spring I would vanish to the hills and in a week return, drawn, remote, my hair mussed, interlaced with fine, pubescent yarn.
Source: Kleinzahler, August. Live from the Hong Kong Nile Club: Poems : 1975-1990. New York: Farrar, Straus and Giroux, 2003. Print.
Driving 80 down the Turnpike, I begin typing into my iPhone:
I’m obsessed with petri curls
UV fancy s longways
Transfixed a Paver
Sears zebrawood w they do but know
What babe brand r u
Fine particles panicked began priests
W us Celine too
They do fast response day
Evict to satisfy Rhys speedster cat us B
Are white judges like war paint
Revved into nz taxes to pick up frenzy navigate
I have Mercedes Benz C 240 black
Is detected bet I hate the NRA
what you could reveal
what you’ll have to remind your story
when its over pause briefly to say: which driver
a trap? here
this arrangement of twin twigs
you’ll have to remind your story
pause a truth which drives the trap
what you could reveal
what’s your pronoun?
how deep does its ample
upholstery stop a medical
and which is the operating
out on the story and pauses briefly
who reminds the spark? you
which drives at twigs snap over-efficient dust
soak the operating table
the truth why drives at your point
operating on the spark?
to what you are rigidly bent upon