As She Thinks She Is

Blue-dress woman,
I feel your heels
sky-high as thighs,
and the valley
where the railroad runs,
all locomotive as spawn.

I'm your T-shirt boy,
ticket to the east coast
and sunrise glory.
Believe. I have pearls
and rubber bullets.

Diamond hallucinations
like Lucy in the pits,
the water gurggles,
falls, turns to mists.
Silk-sweet woman,
caress me with your hair.

I know your inner girl
dolling around with me,
I lift my wings, flutter,
as you dance the thing.
Red-jeweled heart-throb,
break me where it hurts.

ESTIMATE-ZERO

I wish I was a hippie in tight with gawd.
I'd die on a cross to save some mawb.
And iffn' I was best peopl'd aplawd.
Where's the venue? O Lawrd? Lawrd!
Yawn me a heaven and lay me in sawd.
Smoke me a Bible. Unchain my dawg.
I wish I was tight, & all us's odd. Awe. Ah. A...
Daddy.

PERFECT

Ran-
Hours as an owl

So fill
A box

Essays make even
All arms

Try

Try, don't the poor hide?

How near I am
All ink-brown and sweet

"Line referances mind of bees"

In case of spill
Cry

Caramel sticks it

Roar, fans call the man at play.

I've been invited

(The public in the street

Hours parade off in direction of odors

Theory being from "they're"

(Police tickets and a cop

Thunder's a angry knot

Yes, we drive through the park,
Insisting, on signs. Feel the progress

Foyer?



Morphed from The EFFECT
by David Dodd Lee posted at
http://seventeenfingeredpoetrybird.blogspot.com/ 01-11-11

After a Romance

When I met up with Lord Byron
He was reading Jack Spicer
At the Spanish Cafe. We drank
Exotic waters. He described
Love as a concrete-blue bird.

The waiter mistook my English
For German and brought me
A steamy bowl of brains in broth.
Byron couldn't take his eyes
Off the toreador-looking youth

Waiting by the door for girls.
I had just finished reading
A long article about the status
Of critiques and literary code.
I was thinking about misconstrued

Meanings and their importance
As a creative act. Byron wanted
To wipe his feet on Portugal.
I think he must have been in love.
The noon skyline reflected

In my soup. I spooned rooftops
And slurped radio antennas.
Of course, Jack was comatose
On the elevator, clouds leaking
Our of his pockets. But Bird

And Alex know all this. Okay.
Money for a taxi's in the box
By the stove. Come ASAP.
If you know where Jim is,
Tell him it was always too late.