Friday, 19 September 2008

poem #34







fast talk, cigars, a scotch,
three laundry lists, a broken egg,
a pint of red beer
loud

next east-bound train is my train
rolling thrill, swollen anger
over rails, the steel,
brothels

come over, sit and rain,
pray again, sit,
come on over, hang on,
should i begin?

scarce is scared and it could be all over
templates, forms and backorders
white pain over pure thought
the pus

we heard the knocking
and there was no accident waiting
no frills, no perks and maybe your mistakes
are all accounted to me now, but how?

it could really be over when you heard those words,
when you saw their backs
and had the spirits, drank some more while getting ready,
fast, steady, the curves curving downwards
making it all a spiral

don't be afraid and let them in

the monkeys have arrived


victor chapman (Chicago, IL, 1982)

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