And so I’m once again reading Dylan’s ‘Tarantula’
and as kamikaze pilots attack a Tang landscape in
search of Tu Fu’s ghost, a mermaid dangles her virginity
before Charles Bukowski and leaps headlong into a keg
of cheap red wine.
There’s always something going on around here
that I can’t quite put my finger on . . . I mean, just yesterday
at the vegetarian convention a meat cleaver took on the
appearance of Moses and started carving holy words
into the spine of a rusticated lamb and all the tomatoes
bowed down in worship, while on the abandoned ceiling
of my lonely room, Rabindranath Tagore wrote a poem
about the divinity of sex.
I just can’t get my head around it ---- there are blossoms
erupting like unlit bombs in the neighbourhood trees
while on the other side of the planet American missiles are
caressing the cheeks of new born Arabic children. Dudley,
the political clown, with his stand up routine, speaks about
the necessary impeachment of anyone without lily white
skin and with his non laureate tongue spits mothballs
into Bono’s eye sockets and paints a portrait of
Marilyn Monroe’s left breast on every billboard in
the free world.
Maybe I better just shut up because the vandals
took the handles a while back and there’s no sense
trying to copulate wisdom into society’s worn out
uterus because it crossed its legs along time ago.
Author notes
FREE VERSE
In a list
A contest entry
- Since Plautus is dead... by Brian A.
1700 points, ended April 19, 15 entries
Silver trophy winner
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest
Please tell me what you think
Comments
1 - 14 of 14
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You have an alluring knack of spitting the fat of wisdom into the receding flames of progress and making a dying fire crackle once more. On this occasion, the fire roared. I shall read the gold - and hope!
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I read the gold.
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This is awesome. Stream of consciousness style poetry. You should write it out on a scroll. I found nothing wrong grammatically or otherwise, and on AP that's amazing. You've got some wonderful name-dropping as well. Hopefully it will influence some to get out and read their works.All in all, effing awesome!
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Brian . . . thank you for the silver goblet, much appreciated . . . glad you enjoyed this write . . .
Marc
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That was amazing. Really goddamn amazing.
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a good poem, i love the language here, especially the meat cleaver turning into moses and the bowing of the toms - this is a thoughtful dig at society, nicely penned.
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LOL Is you name Jack Dylan or is Allan Kerowac sorry ...this is just so wonderfully artfully funny poet and so well crafted it flowed so beautifully over the funny bone and even made confused sense O well i think I'll have to repot my dog he seems to be outgrowing the old one and maybe I should trim his ears so they will grow bigger ...o silly me now yah got me doing it ..I can even see the exploding gardineas...excellent one poet
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Thankyou bro, you sure got my influences clearly focused and I sure as hell hope that your dog is alright . . .
Marc
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Oh yes. You are in fine form here, and have combined some of my personal icons in a wonderful poem. Great stuff - more, please!
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You are something else! I lament that not everyone is able to read your words. You speak on behalf of those of us who are linguistically unable!
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Allyce . . . you are far too kind with your compliments . . . and hey, we all need readers, unfortunately those who devour poetry are few . . .
Marc
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you capture the essence of Tarantula well Marc.
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I don't know where this came from, but marc... this is fabulous. Loved it, and like wanda said brilliant.
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Stunning. Staggering. F'n brillllllliant, Marc. Sheeeeeeeeet.
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