September 19, 2008
poem #34
fast talk, cigars, a scotch,
three laundry lists, a broken egg,
a pint of red beer
loud
next east-bound train is my train
rolling thrill, swollen anger
over rails, the steel,
brothels
come over, sit and rain,
pray again, sit,
come on over, hang on,
should i begin?
scarce is scared and it could be all over
templates, forms and backorders
white pain over pure thought
the pus
we heard the knocking
and there was no accident waiting
no frills, no perks and maybe your mistakes
are all accounted to me now, but how?
it could really be over when you heard those words,
when you saw their backs
and had the spirits, drank some more while getting ready,
fast, steady, the curves curving downwards
making it all a spiral
don't be afraid and let them in
the monkeys have arrived
victor chapman (Chicago, IL, 1982)
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2 comments:
i don't know why but i feel i know what mr. chapman is talking about when he says "the monkeys have arrived"... i have seen them large and fierce, knocking on my door after a week of insomnia...
interesting but somehow unbalanced, does anyone agree? feels like there is a missing stanza for it to consolidate.
would definitely like to see more honest debate over here... not just easy flattering... oh well
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