Category: Poète Maudit

Fleurs du Mal

Enter: You with baptismals and living mothers, For whom the bells toll, At whom the crickets of the veldt titter, Even that swollen savage, fat in the Saharan sun, Even my father and his useless red-clay gods, Even the preacher on evening walks, Casting out a million cankerworms. Enter: Those never somethings, Those never nothings. … Continue reading Fleurs du Mal

Manus Interruptus

Boy, ask not what it be to be a man, Black, Here comes the white casket, an excellent fiction. Here comes the bastard in the story, The ballad man they called, Mr. Black F. Masculine, Seize a stool, boy, B. F. Masculine, will daze you.

Dance, fool, dance

Jesus, the old lover whispers as I piss red, Parting the red seen in the cistern, And with his, I smell an editor's disgust, As I compose for that nice rot of fancy and glamor. Dance, fool, dance. And for good times, dance. When the stove is cold, Long shall the fool dance, Long shall … Continue reading Dance, fool, dance

Fucking & Punching

FADE IN: INT. HONKY TONK MOTEL, BOILER ROOM - MIDNIGHT There is a fire that licks the bucket’s rim, There is a clunk in the copper pipes, There is a Frida forgotten in a river nameless, There is a con-man in my round yellow window, Swollen in my favorite chair, By the candle, he swells, … Continue reading Fucking & Punching

Son of Ham

I care now for silly echoes, I assume the worst of my best shows, And of eggs that don't hatch, And goldfish that move too fast. What you’d think if I do what I have long promised in hymns and haikus. If your death will be any better than mine. Let us settle this now. … Continue reading Son of Ham

Women & Other Vitamins

The women are commas, Apostrophes, question marks, Ellipses, exclamations, Brackets, bullets, Vowels, consonants, Virgins, widows, Bandages, electric eels, Spices, months of the year, Deja vu's, the Fibonacci sequence.

Lines for the Widow

I seldom know the lines for the widow, You see, I am a poet, I see death every night, I die a little, others die in conclusion, And the sun comes up at half past four. Sometimes, I go for the jugular and squeeze, Other times, the war is extraordinary, Heaven opens a window, I … Continue reading Lines for the Widow

North of Naught

And the baobad and its sparrows, And the feminists and her riots, And the books and its fuse, And the pope and his flask, And the king and our daughters, And the fire and the cornfields, And the market and the pickpockets, And 72 virgins for the terrorists, And the mistress and my bastard, And … Continue reading North of Naught

Unstirred

Damp curtains come under attack, Doors and windows volley free, Enter the tempest, enter the shadows. The clavicle hurts right before it rains, A bed of twisted wings, A halo now silver quick, Between the pillows and wounded sheets. Hair strand on toilet seat, Stray cats have moved in, Enter the madness, And the thick … Continue reading Unstirred

Faulkner Wrote Me

Chapter 1 Believe it, Faulkner wrote me, He asked for the heads of my sons. Not Aikel - ugly writer boy, Weakling and winner of one essay, Who rocks quietly in the dark, But the golden duo - Ukiah, and Lemai, Fetching. Lovers of new wine, Slaughterers of swine, betters of Aikel. Dandelion-haired in the … Continue reading Faulkner Wrote Me

The Girl Who Smokes by the Bay Window

The girl who smokes by the bay window. Excellent kneecaps disturb dead clouds, Black birds fly clean through her head. "How'd I do now?" I demand. She smiles. Little button teeth through puerile smoke, She's going to give all this Brooklyn some cancer, "You're a'ight Mr. Nigerian Man, just a'ight." "I told you I found … Continue reading The Girl Who Smokes by the Bay Window