<b>D' Steel(e)</b> <em>Society of Poetics</em>: Going to Sea in a Sieve

D' Steel(e) Society of Poetics

A Society of Progressive Poets founded in Washington DC

Friday, March 30, 2007

Going to Sea in a Sieve

the snakes on this island are blind and small,
they are worms,
the worm in this apple is brown
and i’ve already eaten half.
The carnies here look tired and old;
their faces,
maps of places they’ve been
and what they’ve seen:
millions of wormy apples
millions of kids spinning, towns swimming, roads revolving

and me? I am downside up, upside down
my forehead pushed against the sweaty black padding,
WE are in a metal rocket trap.

Its raining in my ears, vertigo
its pounding in my chest.

give me your hand, its cold in here.

thats my boyfriend betch!
and we were in line first
and we just don’t give a shit.

On the ferris wheel again, high above our town.
Alone in the sky, we are the only two people on earth
and still only mites, in the universe.

Where is Johnny Crooky head when you need ‘em?

This highschool parking lot is a big country feild
is a boardwalk, is everyman
overman? Zarathustra, right?
No its a left up here,
3104, 2222, 1711
American Avenue
American Avenue
and this is it.

The jungle isn’t humid enough, the desert dry, the ice wet.
The snake among the rocks is bursting from the fires of the earth,
and spits poison.

I breathe it all in,
camoflauge the sloth, hide the portly spider crab
the end is near, the ride is over.

cotton candy comes in pink, blue, green and yellow
lets find an Icee my dearest cousin, and ride this train around the earth
we can howl in the tunnels
and wait for the buffalo to get off,
smile and the sun shines brighter,
laugh and I’ll laugh too.

don’t be afraid of the cold,
this icy lake in the mountains, this glacier water
running, trickling, down, down, down,
is everything.

Soft serve ice cream with sprinkles
hold the soft serve ice cream,
sprinkles only please sir,
sparkles like stars in the night sky
like fireworks,
like prom night dresses,
this small room is the beginning of the rest of our lives,
full of glitz and glamour,
sparkle and shine.

two hits of ecstacy please, I think I’ve had enough.

to or for anyone,
keep on keeping on whatever that means and make sure
you don’t miss love, or bungee jumping, or the ocean,
sometimes rollarcoasters get stuck and people have to wait,
or climb out, or die,
sometimes people go boating and find dead men floating in the water
sometimes, just sometimes, something extroidinary happens,
and then hollywood makes a movie and a million dollars
and the actors hog all the money and don’t share with anyone.

1 Comments:

Blogger mike said...

That's Coney Island,

And that's America

Baby!

9:41 AM  

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