At the Milwaukee County Zoo, Aug. 2013.
(Don’t press for an overall theme from this poem — just read it aloud, perhaps enjoy the rhythms.)
oh, the people:
hard-hearted barkers of a technophobe’s display–
tremendous complicity, the elephant’s dismay;
tendrils of sanity, floating off the standpipe.
Harmonies of vanity rage thru the open mic.
No one notices what everybody knows;
ten-footed toadstools muck up the nose.
Marble-handled pitchforks do no good;
toothless mongooses snort out loud.
Motherless ducklings are really swans;
motherless adults are orphaned blondes.
It matters not whether day or sky,
but floating all into the pile
of platitudes and punditry, mockery erase
snowed-over battlements, totally defaced.
Motorized cannibals mount an attack;
the donut store carnival, alley in back.
Notes are the notes of a noted gone world;
skin is the fin in the shark unfurled.
Mickey Mouse carousel betrays Minnie Mouse —
he’s giving rides all day long.
Posted in Poems
Tagged alley, carnival, Mickey Mouse, mongoose, notes are the notes, Poem, Poems, poet, poetry, rhythm, shark, slam poem, spoken word
Sculpture “The Calling” by Mark di Suvero, outside Milwaukee Art Museum. (Photo by Humble Genius.)
The Butter Dished
Margarine is a poem
butter wrote
to save itself.
A Corral for the Chorus
(For the fun of the sound of the words)
A corral for the chorus
is holey like
Nerf butter, with
cheese to bridge
the lyrical divide,
a prismatic schism.
The coopersmith’s
staves derange
their doppelganger’s
soda pop.
Posted in Poems
Tagged butter, chorus, corral, derange, doppelganger, margarine, Mark di Suvero, Milwaukee, Milwaukee Art Museum, Poem, Poems, poet, poetry, soda pop, staves, The Calling
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