20 Mar 2009, 7:43am
Writing
by David

2 comments

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Body dither romance

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Dust bowl prodigal

Lucky white thingamabob
 jalopy new moon

The face at the window is the face of a man who likes to make lists

Hera, Ezra, Esther
etc.

He says fa la la
Fiddle-dee dee dee

He has come to take you with him

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Five time I tried to go back and fix the corruption

Four or five
Twenty

I am liars about sex

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I am a child of the seventies

This poem made the carrots sad
They said, we can’t repeat it
We absolutely can’t repeat it

They took to jumping up and down in the stew making the potatoes and
meat very upset

They had to call in bugs bunny with a fire truck

Yabba dabba doo
And fred flintstone

We don’t know what is necessary

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Wind or campaign

Intense map of the north
White heart
Sobriquet

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Soren kierkegaard becomes a robot

Merriweather is a force
Is brains
She left my last sandwich on the windowsill and told me the magpies ate it

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I want to make love to you on the back of a school bus.
This can’t be good.
What would our parents say?

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Chitty chitty bang bang
Pink panther
Oz

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The world is a different place, full of motors and spitches. What are spitches?

I don’t think my children will understand these poems I write.

Neither do I…

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Daguerreotype: sleep

This shading shape should be your
Elfin grot
Should be your
(well-consuming)

Bit of fur

When you shaved it off for me, I thought it was an act of romance

*****

Today you are in electric barns

O hayloft here
Hayloft there

Macdonald

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F Fellini the film director
Cast his wife
In the film la strada

She plays one good hooker
Baby

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(Conviction, etc.)

Are you exicted
I’m excited

Maybe you don’t fit inside
the grandfather clock

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My grandmother lived in the mountains

The poke salad
The poke salad
The poke salad

Sparkles with beauty

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Poem for the old owners

I want to get Thai from the thai place

The green curry it’s the best ever

Bet you didn’t know that
Or did you

Guess what

I can play chopsticks
On the piano

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(My lover as a Dressmakers form)

Time was, sleep made us all a little more hoary
We didn’t worry about the outcome, we worried about the income.
What the news from the war would be,
what the tendre sun

But the truth is, I didn’t want you
 To follow me
I hid you under the mattress and said that you fell

You said, I am a white foamy carcass

I said, could you Pop your shoulders in and be a little more real

The suspense here is killing me.

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(My lover as Velma from Scooby Doo)

Idiot song

Come and rescue me in your van

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My lover as a militant bitch

Like a child prodigy you could cut your fingernails short and bang
bang bang on the piano while Real Madrid played Arsenal in the
Champions league or Gordy Howe with the slapshot puck up ok
yeah ok

Flick-cigarrette-eyes

Saying it isn’t so doesn’t make it so/not so

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Fists in your gown

The alternative poem
The derivative
Desire
Always exists beside you

Behind you

Lick me
Lick me there you say

where?
You say

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I’ve forgotten where