Thursday, August 25, 2005

Another Google Ad Poem Compliments Maureen

Vamoose Bus Service

Vama a la our loosely
named Vamoose service.

We do things fast and loose;
livestock is politely ignored.

We drive on the edge; we'll
drive you to the edge of the nation.

After that you're on your own;
there's only so much vamoosing
that one service can do you.

Donna 'n Shafer Zoo Project #6

My Anaconda Would Rather Pass On This One

Such a stupid
anaconda,
if I didn’t feed it
it would forget to eat.

The long, slender
stomach of the
anaconda is a
biological treat:
anacondas evolved
as long as the Amazon;

as long as the Amazon
flows the anaconda
will swim.

My anaconda
is so fickle,
even when it is hungry,
even though it always knows
what it is hungry for.

Just Doing As I Am Told

Together They’ve Got To Fight Through Hell Until The Fight Is Finished

Love for a man, when a man
loves a woman, the love a man
has for a friend, he’s a real man
who loves dogs, be a man
for once, for once

I have seen a lot of relationships
in my life, he said distantly,
he said it the way that men
talk about war.

When cousins are curled up in closets
and fear is flying, wives are crying
and you can’t flash forward to forty years
from now when everything will be real calm.

Once you’ve decided on something
it is very easy to undecided it
it is very easy to dream these days
these days the American dream is so elastic.

It is much harder to hang
on to the clarity of a memory,
to remember why you did it
in the first place, why you’re you,
you Americans.

Wednesday, August 24, 2005

Donna 'n Shafer Zoo Project #5

The Crueler Capers of the Crocodile

It was long
my belief
that the reptiles
of this world
got a bad rap.

Something about teeth,
something about complexion,
it seemed too obvious
to me; my tears were real.

But then our guide got got
in Guatemala, and the crocodile
rolled and rolled the way crocodiles do
when they are serious about something.

Our “Sayanora!” was sad that day,
we said “See you later.” Oh, cruelty.
Oh, crocodile.

Poems By Request #1: This one goes out to all the hard ones, the young ones.

My Boy, Jack

Jack, my boy,
defend yourself
from the bad
that is out here
in this frontier
city of yourself.

See that subways
are yours for
transportation
and not a place
for the robbers
(or the cops)
to play their
games with you.

Jack, my boy.
the other day
someone was
shot in the face
around the corner
from my apartment.

I thought of you,
Jack, you are young.
Your face is yours.
Your fingers twitch
and twiddle
with excitement.

Friday, August 12, 2005

Donna 'n Shafer Zoo Project #2

Five Flamingoes

Five
flamingoes
last night
dreamed
about me.

Their
single
supporting
legs
twitched
in their
sleep,
causing
concentric
circles
to ripple
around them,
five
concentric
circles
to the
5,000th
power,
like a quite
confounding
Venn diagram
describing
the fickleness,
the changing face
of water.

When the flamingoes
awoke,
they gawked
at each other;
their mouths
gaped.

They knew
instinctively
(by the patterns
in their home,
the water, maybe)
they all had
the same dream,
but they couldn't
say what it was.

EXTRAORDINARY EXHIBITION EXTRAVAGANZA

Good People,

The below is from Daniel Morrow, who will be hosting this thing Wednesday night at Galapagos. All your friends will be there.

***

Warning!

An Extraordinary Exhibition Extravaganza will be taking place next
Wednesday the 17th at Galapagos, north six street, Williamsburg.

New York's finest poet, Shafer Hall will read from his world renowned
poems, Marissa Perel will delight us with a performance piece which
will blow your socks of, Ben Murphy will sing some of the finest
penned tunes you're ever likely to hear and then The Morrow will
attempt to polish the evening off with some new fashioned rock n'
roll.

The evening begins at 7pm sharp

So stick it in your diary, you have been warned

Cheers all

We Are Pleased To Announce

the long overdue entrance of Miss Rachel Shukert into the blogosphere. Two postings and her blog is already hilarious, full of beer and celebrities and scatalogical references. All Aerosmith fans and other people who like to laugh should hustle over to http://bushwickhotel.blogspot.com/.

Wednesday, August 10, 2005

Another Google Ad Poem

Pirate Wenches and Gypsies

I was wondering to myself today
"am I more of a pirate wench person
or more of a gypsy person?"

I imagine that gypsies would have
some sort of great sexual traditions
involving oils and secrets
whispered to them by their mothers,
but I'd spend the whole night
worrying about my wallet.

But with pirate wenches,
it'd kinda be like you were the girl
and they were the guy.

Either way it seems
I could learn a lot about myself,
either way they are both
100% natural.

Friday, August 05, 2005

Google Ad Challenge From Maureen!

Slang Flashcards

Slang flashcards,
they are these cards
with slang,
and come packaged with
the most bitchin' bubble gum.

I just buy them for the gum
and then throw
the rest of that shit away
because all of that "pop,
poppop, pop, pop, pop"
is slang plenty
all to its own.

Moon Patrol!

The Night They Murdered My Man Mickey Mooner Underneath The Moon

The other night they murdered
My man Mickey Mooner
Underneath a full moon.

Mickey Mooner was my man
at the time, he saw that my
clothes were neatly pressed,
and he brought lukewarm
bowls of salt and soda solution
for me to dip my fingernails.

But Mickey was murdered
and I remain a man
in search of adequate help
underneath the sun.

Thursday, August 04, 2005

www.sonicbids.com/themorrow

Image hosted by Photobucket.com

Wednesday, August 03, 2005

Moon Patrol Poems Continued

Cat Training Secrets

It's no secret:
the moon tugs
from its cosmic outpost
gently on the water of this Earth.

So it makes sense:
cats, who (like everything else)
are 78% water,
are gyroscoped into madness
by the moon's unrelenting orbit.

Still: cats
can be trained (like anything else.)
The water in their blood will cool
until they move very slowly
in straight lines.

Durge Report: Special Edition

Sunday Morning Sybil Is A Hoosier

with tears falling out of her eyes.

Yesterday afternoon she was a lithe Spartan,
a fieldmouse of a kickboxer.

Saturday night she drank like a Roman,
but on Sunday morning Sybil is a Hoosier.

What Fine Flanks You Have

I caught the last set of the last act of the 2nd Annual Brooklyn Country Music Festival. It was these guys and they were untouchable (in the good way.)