Saturday, November 17, 2007

cause & effect

ok, these 2 poems were recently printed by a mag in California called CAUSE & EFFECT. volume 1, number 2, november/december 2007.

the fighting irish

friday night
and my teeth are raining

like a slot machine paying off.

do they still grow fists that big?

it’s fine
I don’t mind
I probably had it coming.

I should thank you
I haven’t seen a dentist in years.

also known as the hunter in Greek mythology

boy let me tell you she's hopping
mad she's all angular fury coming
out in elbows and knees and knuckles she's
at the front of the line trying to get some service
trying to raise her voice to the point of distraction
trying to bang on the counter but the sound is
muted and flat not the sound she's looking
for something more rousing or attention getting
would be in order a fanfare of trumpets maybe
so she raises her voice a bit and it's like that
chalkboard sound that really gets to some people
and the manager comes from the back
unsure of the stand he should take and after
a second or 2 says I'm sorry you'll have to leave
and she pauses and considers and reaches for the straws
and throws them around the floor like she's feeding
ducks or seeding a field Johnny Appleseed
languid no anger and another pause to consider the
manager she thinks she may try to sweet him a bit
you attract more bears with honey but she changes
her mind the squeaky wheel gets the grease and
she tries to sweep the cash register to the floor but it
doesn't move doesn't budge and nonplussed hey how's
that for a word nonplussed she tries to climb onto the
counter her arms and legs clumsy like a baby's and the room
is watching her move in chubby halftime despite the speed
of her intentions so that makes the rate of her fall all the
more startling everything sudden and agile until the thick
sound of her head hitting the floor and everyone thinking
ok that's it it's over she's out but no she's screaming about
suing screaming about draining every last cent out of this
fucken company and then buying this shithouse and coming
back to fire each and every one of you assholes but no one is really
listening to her now they're just looking at her arms raised to
clutch her head and the holes dotting them you know what that
means there's almost more holes than arm and the room starts to
catch on and there's whispering as some explain to others the
tiny needle marks like the milky way and she doesn't try to hide them
she sees them all looking and she waves her arms around her flashing
her constellations lighting the room and then that's it
just like that she stops. pauses and pushes herself up up and off the
floor and walks towards the door bumping into people and they trying not
to notice and she walks through them as easily as through sheets
drying on a clothesline and she's regal indifferent letting them
roll off her because who else in here has Orion's Belt in the crook
of their arm?