Sunday, October 23, 2011
2011 Anthology Reading (the bold ones)
Don Kingfisher Campbell
FREEDOM TO DRIVE
a ton of steel and glass and plastic and rubber
on asphalt and concrete and metal road to reach
a windowed and tabled restaurant to gorge on
cow and pig and chicken and fish to fill belly and
get in car again to arrive at mall steel and glass
and rubber and stucco buildings of opportunity
to try on and plastic card or paper bill purchase
yards of cotton and polyester and rayon and
spandex then plant ass on leather and vinyl
once more to park wheels and chrome near a
convenience store of plastic and chrome counters
to buy a bunch of plastic and paper packages bags
and bottles easily tossed in either receptacle or
ground and subsequently re-enter a stucco and
rubber and glass and steel building wherein clothes
and food and electronics are stored in wood and on
carpet made to outlast flesh and bone occupants
The Post-Katrina Boogie
I got rhythm
See how it feels
I got it in my espadrilles
When these shoes
You're gonna get it too!
And bet your
You'll stomp that beat
Down the middle
Of Bourbon Street
Ain't no hurricane on the way
Looks like Mardi Gras!
Tweet the whistles,
Bang the drums
Honk them old
Til the dang dawn's early light!
Wind and water
Oil and fire
FEMA trailers of desire...
Shoot, that music never stops
And we forgot to care - so c'mon
St. Peter there
All the way to Jackson Square
Bon temps roulet
Down to that that
and you can lay down your care and woe
down by the riverside
study war no more...
Radomir Vojtech Luza
Fuck what they think
They laughed at my dancing
until they tried to dance
They tore-up my poetry before
they tried to rhyme pain and grain
They mocked my clothes
until they looked in the mirror
They sobbed loudly as saltwater ran down cheekbones
They could not move when
they heard me speak
They ran when they saw me bloodied and beaten
rise from purgatory
They laughed when they heard my monologue
until they realized their life was one
Christopher Luke Trevilla
Tender Oddities: Fabula y Realidad
Someone lost within
a something among us all
mirages walk in the light of day
gentle well meaning,
yet facades hide hearts in chains
while a homeless man screams
children and older folk turn and stare
with other worlds in between
sin cuidado alguno
Not a single soul
No one's there
Drink your morning cup
forget the sleepless night
lost in urban blight and suburban decor
treading and meandering
between two worlds
We swallow the bitter pill
and hold out our hand for more
each day the mundane ritual
We call home
In ages past...
Life was mythical and wondrous
now it is familiar and apalling
let's go back
recapturing the joy
of the messy and unknown
'See you soon.
No, never again.’
Small chest hidden in corner
of thrift store waits
for new owner to claim it.
Rescued from an empty house
and then a garage, the chest
hopes for a dwelling where
it can be put to good use.
Cobwebs hide in dark places
underneath its four legs,
while a whirlwind of leaves
gather beneath it.
Layers of dirt collect on its
mahogany body, while grimy
handles on three drawers,
leave residue on hands
that hope to find treasure inside.
Discovered underneath a fake plant,
the chest is joyfully taken
to a new place where its deep red wood
is cleaned of the black dirt hidden on it.
Shined with love, it is given
a new purpose in a new home.
Once hidden, I was covered
with the grime of sin until the Lord found me.
He cleansed me with the polish of righteousness
and cleared the cobwebs of confusion.
Shining me with love, grace and mercy,
He blows new life into me after each layer
of dirt is found and scattered to the wind.