Sunday, December 27, 2020

                  -a serious problem resolved, somewhat-

I think most of my poems

are better served when

recited in the monotone.

I think the sound they make belongs

on the plane of the Earth.

no highs nor lows just flat as the planet.

poets I listen to online

reciting their work to an audience, tend to

accentuate syllables more often.

Billy Collins for example, recites from his podcast

employing a tone-scale intonation sympathetic

to the piece at hand, near pleading in some sense

at various moments of consequence

and when the reading is done, he slowly

looks up at us for a moment of silent resolution.

his face rises from the spine like a Sun

we can look at with our naked eyes.

maybe I feel this way because I listen to these poets

reading into my ear in their own voices.

but when it’s just me in the room, my poems

tumble through my head like hallucinations.

funny, though.

because I don't read my stuff out loud,

I hear them through the mind's throat springing

from the plane.–– but


occasionally a few stand at the mic

with the breathless sound of Marilyn's voice

when she sang: "Happy Birthday Mr. President" to J.F.K.

and man,..talk about poetry.








Sunday, December 20, 2020

dead Jack, the guy in the back / requiem for Jack Kickabuck

for those who go down to the snow

at the helm of fierce machinery,

there echo's a distant romance in falling

to endlessness from behind the hand-

powered scoop, I know.

but old Jack Kickabuck layered his clothes

from skin to the outermost cloth, trudging out there

without fear, forging a pathway to an open road

guiding the rattling gas-burner with its auger's blades,

his crawling machinery altering the timeline of his life.

good old Jack would not be spared the frozen hand of god.


the undertaker has changed his socks, but his attitude

remains the same as it ever was; to collect the fallen

like old Jack Kickabuck laid bare upon his fatal snow,

and move the dear departed to deposit him to another

frozen space, and so it goes from time to time.


Jack Kickabuck, the guy in the back fell dead of heart failure upon a soft

bed of snow during a fierce winter day in 2017.