poems: emperor clothes

Back at the factory, we've been "extracting" poems from the gradoo of discarded books, funky tech magazines, dog fancier mags, and the like, in search of the poems that are always there. These are some of the ones I "found."

[OBSIDIAN]

Is a revolution quite possibly unlike
Any you’ll
Find
Within easy reach?
If you’re doing it
For the first time,
Do it right.

[On/Off]

Envision
10 fans, or the
Dream of
Millions.

[WHERE WE PUT STUFF]

Scrimp on parts, but
Kick ass
Now with
The brakes on.

[Include your city of residence]

I love the truth:
Things are looking grim.
At some point, someone will wake up.
After all,
Vulnerability isn’t just limited to the clouds.
Every single one of us
Folds as soon as possible.

[White-socked feet]

Horse steps, so its thoughts were of him.

[Bobble-head]

Perched on the arm
The door across the hall was
A fax machine,
A tangle of wires,
& a boot that bobbed impatiently.
To be precise
The sadness
Was so low he couldn’t catch it.

[Ellsberg’s soup]

Mankind
should be
Persons / Not a girl:
How’d you like to call me a boy?
I could see a barn—solid Quaker farm folk
Was it any wonder
Love is a muddle
Upstairs
Naked & plaintive
On the paper in her hand—

[Dear Prudence]

Thanks, fellow pilgrims: a chance thee loves me
A can of hash, a contented son, devotional books
Kissing Firbank on the refrigerator
Still & cool
First visit, first married,
Farming was the last thing
I had to tell you . . .