i am a head on a stick

Wikipedia Poem, No. 868

headonastick-sm

with honesty and love
he carried 
me over the earth
to 
       burke reason, honesty and didn't once put my 
head on a stick
or make me 
    do terrible things 
to the truth

now i am a head on 
      a stick
made to 
do terrible things 
and love
       trauma 

many other kings
from their hearth
pull gratitude 
from people i had hurt
carry me 
    without the gratitude of people i skewer with magic
made to do terrible things
to burke reason, honesty and earth

i am a 
head 
i am a head 
    on a stick again
and didn't never once love
the earth
who burkes reason, honesty and 
wompsters alike 
have carried me through gratitude 
to people i had once loved
and burked myself  
with reason, honesty and mirth

i am a head 
on a stick
made to do terrible things to truth
     
a head once loved
a head 
on a stick
made to do terrible things and never once loved
tubercular wompsters 
have carried me over the earth
      to the granite people stuck 
on a stick
that
once loved
 the truth as a trunk
      
i am a g and a wompster 
carried beside the earth
to 
burke reason, honesty and fellow 
wompsters 
don't concern yourself
with my trauma 

many kings 
once loved
the head i have become
 
don't once love yourselves
head concerned 
with trauma 

many kings
many truths

i am a head once loved
on a stick
made to do terrible things
to heaven
          to the 
earth
to burke 
reason, honesty and wompsters 
     
i have carried myself over the earth
to 
burke reason, honesty 
and wompsters 

i am a head 
of
     many kings don't concern themselves with
love
do terrible things
       to burke reason, honesty and truth

i am a head once loved
for its amplitude of attitude i had on a 
stick
and chompers 
chomping all over the earth
to burke reason's honesty and don't come once loved 

and many kings  
and many traumas 
and many earths 

burke reason
honesty and don't 
and don't and don't

‘The geezer alcoholics in the corner?’

Wikipedia Poem, No. 867

safe.jpg

     break into 
air 
       leather man
break into air 
     
breathe 
      into  
   leather man
          breathe into air 
   leather jacket
   licked back 
      hair
and 
steal 
another 
      man
        break 
into 
leather 
     man
don't break
don't break man
     don't break   
       
look leather 
man
       break it or lose it 
     leather 
man
break the air 
man
      pomegranate flower
hoplite bannister  

leather man
      slip into 
        the air 
like a man
          breaks in his  
      leather 
man
breaks into 
          the hairy air 
       leather rip
    jacket rip
licked backseat 
          nothing
man sniffling 
a diagram
then sentenceless i don't exist rip
        lick leather men sniffing 
about arson
one might hang 
  about 
arson around
  one night about 
     like smoke
one might 
   break the air 
          smoke around
       one just might smoke leather man

‘Noir, NJ’ by Paul Muldoon

muldoon

When I wake up in a strange bed
Beside a girl called Pam
I try to play the whole thing down
And give my name as Sam
It’s clear I’m way out of my depth
It’s clear that she’s dropped a dime
It’s clear that even I suspect
I’m guilty of some crime
I know those goons by the streetlamp
Are champing at the bit
I last saw them on board the train
Before we took a hit
And jumped the observation car
Only to lose our way
In a nightmarish railroad yard
Somewhere near Noir, NJ

When I squint through the slatted blinds
Pam orders juice and eggs
She’ll let a man do the legwork
While she works on her legs
It’s clear her husband was a wimp
It’s clear he had no spine
It’s clear she lit that cigarette
To give the goons a sign
I know that it’s a rule of thumb
A gumshoe’s fingered me
When ladies who’re high maintenance
Meet lighting that’s low key
They’re just so many femme fatales
Who have been led astray
And now lure plainclothesmen et al
Back there to Noir, NJ

When a sergeant with a scattergun
Meets a shamus
Halfway up the stairs
Somewhere between Paterson
And Paramus
They redefine the parameters
And bid us welcome, hey, hey, hey,
Welcome to Noir, NJ

When I flash forward through the murk
Of who did what to whom
I’m pretty sure I don’t deserve
To die here in this room
It’s clear I’ve been double-crossed
It’s clear that I’ve been framed
It’s clear that Pam’s husband was half deaf
From how they shout his name
I know I’ll be reduced to pulp
She’ll gulp with her orange juice
If I don’t reassert myself
She’ll kick in my caboose
It’s not too late to be hard-boiled
Like the eggs on Pam’s tray
Through even her pistol would recoil
At what happened in Noir, NJ

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Source: Muldoon, Paul. Joyce Carol Oates, Editor. New Jersey Noir. Consortium Book Sales & Dist, 2011. Print. pp. 217-218.

Splash (Jamal Khashoggi)

Wikipedia Poem, No. 861

222-b

a years and one in mr khashoggi’s death

and yet it american supporters in mr khashoggi’s death

and yet
it
american support middle
eastern democratic moment tarry
countried to seem obvious choicers in which the breakdown centers n

are

in years and
one in year
in year

in yemen had tried to seem obvious in which
twenty eighteen
would
not be
the breakdown centers
of the obvious in mr khashoggi’s death

— it may come to seem obvious in mr khashoggi’s death

The Prosecutor Said in a Statement

Wikipedia Poem, No. 860

23123-2-sm.jpg

this mad rhetoric diamond
there is delight here for
us to be populated the black fireworks palmed over
gold manipulating gold in place
ice powerful the powerful powerful powerful
fizzling poison of kings of the king’s
the powerful powerful powerful
popular must be powerful

survey says:
there is delight here
for the weak
must sniff manipulation in place
i refuse the powerful inch toward the sun
punch my nose poison
gift of lace no-blood
must be a strap of leather a spider
plant i refuse

White Bull

Wikipedia Poem, No. 857

andwept

would art be a battleground?
forget college circle prompts
reasoning this: the old anti-censorship birth-game
awoke: the journalist outlouds dear trench of sky
scales and art forward has to be black
long for enjoyment during crisis of this: something
my mouth’s desire improving each generation
both males and art forward replace themselves
they believed me once entitled of containment
a generational cataclysm of cloud, because black, because long lines
enjambed of this: shame animates this poem
seven years wet no matter the danger of horah or humor
they please negativity stay with the poem, top-to-tit, before improving it

a prompt: read the work with boys with quick fingers — quick
trench of pharmaceutical glass for what’s parenthetical: i keep forgetting
pronouns ineffectively release negative desires
they have shifted the work, even among the paranoid, to shame anymore.
i have the power of numbers: the trick people are born woke;
the living prompt: read this poem and wept.

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Source: Stich, Stephen P. “AUTONOMOUS PSYCHOLOGY AND THE BELIEF-DESIRE THESIS.” The Monist, vol. 61, no. 4, 1978, pp. 573–591. JSTOR, JSTOR, http://www.jstor.org/stable/27902562.

Content

content

This pattern supports previous research 
which found the beneficial potential 
for humor to release negative mood scales
and replace them 
with a positive
sense of euphoria 
or elation.

Both males and females appear to benefit 
from the enjoyment 
of specific humor
          content
when angered.

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Source: Prerost, F. (1995). Sexual desire and the dissipation of anger arousal through humor appreciation; Gender and content issues. Social Behavior and Personality: An international journal, 23, 45-52.

Someone I respect is putting on a play.

Wikipedia Poem, No. 853

37.131

put on a play
pliant appeal

so what is
putting on
a
play

grow through here
and
grow through there
crystal-sutured words

i’m sure he
can drive the honda
crv

its lithe dogwood takes root
in these crystal-sutured words
i’m sure he
can drive these crystal-sutured words

i’m
sure he can drive
and grow through these
i’m sure he would speak
for his
name

i respect fully
biodegradable materials
the honda
is lithe
lithe dogwood
take root there

and grow through crystal-sutured worlds
i’m sure he would speak for his name
i respect putting on a play
lithe sun

no one remembers himself
among these crystal-sutured words
i’m sure he can drive
and grow and speak for himself
among crystal sutures
the honda crv puts on a play

the dogwood
takes
root in crystal-sutured words
i’m sure he can
drive there
and grow through a play

the
dogwood takes root there
and grows through words
speaks for himself
among crystal and names
i remember his name
i dismember toward antlers sewn to bureau

and if i
don’t comment
toward ritual
the ritual has begun