Saturday, May 07, 2011

poem: the backyard cosmos

sidescraping firmament
navigating the inroads

left sizzling down your

western ways

it can't be real, the way

you size out the leftover

gams, the absent follicles,

the damsel in distress fairy

tales we tell ourselves , waiting

for the bus, waiting the quizzical

way we mention yesterday's

artesian memories

hollow out that cave down

the eastside, baby, the fishy-found

aftersweep, Mardi Gras debris

in your hair, starshine

sensibilities, brides of the candysquare

rubydolls, i ask you: been to the emerald

lately, felt the sweep upon

your skin, skedaddled

down the raspa-heavens,

the trailertrash prom

nights, Ihopping morning prayers
them be the feet

you wuz dancing? Shebop

down the aisle, sister,

cement your future selves with

the abandon you expect in

the prettyways, your tolerance

for passion still sizzles the nights

still gallavants the backyard cosmos, still

amps the ramps,

apes the homo sapes,

articulates the particulates

nano-seconding the corollaries

expounding the capillaries

sounding out the phonetic

cavalcades of the cautionary,

revolutionary, coparcenary

kisses of the second round -



Blogger Dee Martin said...

Sidescraping firmament - that goes right along with vagabond desires and handmade visions. Absent follicles? What is it about the word quizzical? It is the very picture of what it is - it just makes me grin to see it or read it. Goofy I know. Love artesian memories - I see them bubbling up - what a fun poem to read while I watch "The boy Who Could Fly"

There is something fishy about that Mardi Gras debris but the starshine makes it alright - then you bust loose for reals. Gallavanting, ramp amping, monkeying around with the clearly stated bits and pieces - I loved it though of course had to go to the google for coparcenary - there's a word you don't see every day.

(Plus Buffalo Springfield? Nice way to end a Saturday afternoon)

7:37 PM  
Blogger Teresa said...

I like the last riff from amps the ramps and apes the homo sapes to the end.

This one was fun, even at 4 am!!

6:18 AM  
Blogger murat11 said...

Dee: I wasn't completely happy with the Mardi Gras debris, either: I was thinking more along the line of cascarones, but the poet took a different turn: whatever the case, I wasn't (nor was he) thinking street trash, just dazzling, maybe even quizzically dazzling, confetti. As for coparcenary, a rhyming dictionary is a wunnerful thang.

Mr. Young and his boyz seem to have momentarily supplanted Ms. Bingham and her dancey grooves.

7:52 AM  
Blogger murat11 said...

T: Glad you enjoyed the splashtown-riffy little dragon ride at the end, even if you were getting all splashtown-splashy in the wee hours. Happy Mother's Day your way.

7:54 AM  
Blogger anno said...

been missing the emerald lately, matter of fact; loved the open range of it you've made around here. Summertime sweet, something to aim for. Thanks!

3:02 PM  
Blogger murat11 said...

Anno: Michigan summertimes sound particularly sweet; I suspect they are considerably more humane than our infernos.

5:17 PM  

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