Posts Tagged ‘ poetry ’

Here’s a little ditty…

So here’s a poem called “Thermodynamics” that Arsenic Lobster (which is just about the coolest journal name ever) put up.

 

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A Statistical Analysis of Your Profligate Charms (a.k.a. A Peculiar Ode)

hello, dear

thinking of your qualities
unstrained mercy and all of that
I find myself wondering:

what if you were the norm

if the world was–not you, but somewhat statistically–like you
what would the world be

(I know, for instance, a world of merely me’s would be a dreadful place of egos run amok)

but if all our fellow human beings fell within
one standard deviation from you
in fairness
thoughtfulness
all that good stuff

Well, then, I guess we’d have a nice little world

But from perusing the news
I see it’s not to be

Oh well
and lucky me

uninhabitable

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we’ve been burned out
we

the city you knew
a bruise in history
broken capillaries
speaking to discreet and private calamities
ripe for forgetting

it’s horrifying, creation

atoms in the asphalt buzz
haunting
and we shutter up the windows
board the doors
keep the disharmonies out
pray quietly
for another hour

another season

By way of shameless self-promotion, I offer this.

shoddy metaphor (unremarkable, given the theme)

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what’s in there
that hasn’t been ransacked
metaphysics tied up
in half-baked abstracts
stitched together into
relativistic ethical shamanism
it’s just a bucket sloshing over
and all the good apples have been picked out already

woe unto he who searches through
with probing fingers
to the rusty bottom

 

if

you,
slave to inertia,
plod on
a noisy, cumbersome exercise

but somewhere is made ready
a secret legion
with visions
of crystal towers
cities of justice
and above all
alive inside
with the possibility of myth
the epic
once all the purveyors of painless outrage
have spent their tedious little words
they
the paragons
these
will be left
standing
integrity riveted to their iron frames
the superstructure of that which they have chosen,
an immutable certainty,
heroic in their steadfastness

the last great meaning

Others

They have their drumbeats
and we, our own
autotuned and synthesized
meticulously focus-grouped
slipped through panel after panel
of experts on cool
and soccer mom surrogates
each bass tone
scientifically balanced
anodized
and vulcanized
we drain the life from it through plastic tubes
and pipe in a patented Vivacity Substitute(TM)
until it has all the sheen and luster of genuine music
with half the fat
and this stale, lame thing
we hold up as a shield
against the hard, sharp edges of their bone knives