Poetry Totally Dead
I.
Dem bones was shivering
and shaking. Williamsburg totally
time for the mixer (why
speak?) for the windows
toward the world. A big
thanks beautifully
crafted, deeply felt, totally
earned, these
poems of love and bereavement.
II.
Without that poem everyone would be
dead, so poetry totally looks after
its own. Gangsta. The world and hope,
the possibility, the proverbial
country bucket. Sometimes you eat
the bear, sometimes the bear eats you.
note. search run at 10:52 a.m. 28 April 2009. every word above found on first page of search results, selected at random in order of appearance. some periods and capitalizations added or retracted.
15 April 2009
Not sorry in the morning and not planning on being sorry in the afternoon
Fear is the devil said that lady of the house
at the house, grandmother's house. Get
rid of it now, she said on a visit
from some far place whose name
devils but Cast it out, she said, that
lady of the house, lady of grandmother's.
On another day same dying world same
chop up the food to feed her realm
the real grandmother seemed to
whispered If you'd been mine,
I'd have raised you different though
her grammar had been impeccable.
at the house, grandmother's house. Get
rid of it now, she said on a visit
from some far place whose name
devils but Cast it out, she said, that
lady of the house, lady of grandmother's.
On another day same dying world same
chop up the food to feed her realm
the real grandmother seemed to
whispered If you'd been mine,
I'd have raised you different though
her grammar had been impeccable.
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