death
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“Nigga’ Technology” I got my first cell phone last month Black flat sleek plastic flip up camera like on the original star trek today I sent my first text to a girl friend. I lost the power cord the second day. Everybody show off the freak flicks At work they wouldn’t understand Why while walking
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(For my most mortal master, Robert Cochran, And my most immortal master, Allen Ginsberg) “and where is the great sorrow , that has carried me this far?” -Robert Cochran Allen Ginsberg signed the papers Authorizing the thought police To break into his mother’s mad mind One day Robert Cochran may have to sign the papers
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TASTE OF DEATH BUT ONCE TASTE OF DEATH BUT ONCE It’s hard to think when the dogs sniffing the floor, yardman’s lawn mowers whining, the garbage trucks hydraulics crunchy hiss as the diesel engine growls. The radios playing trip hop and your old lady’s massaging your nuts. Still you go on, remembering that others have
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As If for Robert Trammell As if the breath of a poet could resurrect the dead bird silently decomposing in the slate colored street. The curb ascends, a tombstone for so much road kill; a squirrel here, a cat there, somebody’s whistling calling a dog that cannot answer but this mourning the bird with Verona
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Dead Baby Blue for Robert Trammell Beware, Life is not a dream even when dead birds lying drunkenly in the gutter suddenly straighten Verona feathers stand on broken feet of poems vomit a gut full of idealistic maggots eyes swimming against the … bone, (alabaster, ivory, eggshell, porcelain, pearl,) undertow of parasitic insights bitch-slap the
Joey Cloudy online 