Sweet Kentucky Song
I woke up thinking that I had figured
out what song I wanted for my funeral
parade. Some song I heard once called
"Sweet Kentucky Song." I figured the
brass band we love from Madison could
belt it down Second Street where the
Fourth of July parade always swayed and the
annual barrel contests between fractions of
firemen were fought. But then you told me
there was no such thing as a song called
"Sweet Kentucky Song" so I decided I'd
have to call it off altogether and figured
I'd have to stick around a little longer
until someone came up with that exact song
which, odds are, may never, never, ever happen.
Wednesday, April 06, 2005
Shafer V!
The Case of the Patented PBJ
Filed away under Fucking
Great Ideas is the crimped PBJ,
where the PBJ chef thinly spreads
the peanut butter on both breads,
and then you put your Smuckers
in between and crimp the edges.
There's no soggy bread,
and all of that sweet smuck
stays where it belongs.
But the U.S. patent office
smucked everything up,
they said "everybody knows
about the coat and crimp method.
Moms and other interested parties
have been doing it for years."
They must think they are
pretty smucking smart.
Filed away under Fucking
Great Ideas is the crimped PBJ,
where the PBJ chef thinly spreads
the peanut butter on both breads,
and then you put your Smuckers
in between and crimp the edges.
There's no soggy bread,
and all of that sweet smuck
stays where it belongs.
But the U.S. patent office
smucked everything up,
they said "everybody knows
about the coat and crimp method.
Moms and other interested parties
have been doing it for years."
They must think they are
pretty smucking smart.
It is 4:22 and my eyes are blurry
and I want to tell you that if you sent something and it isn't here please send a polite reminder.
Also please scroll down because I posted a bunch of stuff just now, and particularly don't forget my man Jamison's's from April 4 because they made me roll onto my back and bicycle my feet into the air while giggling.
Also please scroll down because I posted a bunch of stuff just now, and particularly don't forget my man Jamison's's from April 4 because they made me roll onto my back and bicycle my feet into the air while giggling.
Jaime 5!
{Daddy, Look at the Handfish!}
—for The Durge
With abracadabra tremolo,
fingers flutter at the surface.
Squareback anthia dart back and forth
in ticker neon, shy as the best-colored
gumball your quarter will never drop.
It has come for the damselfish
asleep now two days inside the coral.
Eaten to her petticoats,
the large thumb and forefinger
pluck the diaphanous remains from the
coral, lifting them slowly from the water
like death rattle from a theremin.
To the rest of the tank,
it is deus ex machina.
To the child the handfish
is magic.
—for The Durge
With abracadabra tremolo,
fingers flutter at the surface.
Squareback anthia dart back and forth
in ticker neon, shy as the best-colored
gumball your quarter will never drop.
It has come for the damselfish
asleep now two days inside the coral.
Eaten to her petticoats,
the large thumb and forefinger
pluck the diaphanous remains from the
coral, lifting them slowly from the water
like death rattle from a theremin.
To the rest of the tank,
it is deus ex machina.
To the child the handfish
is magic.
John 5!
PIN-THE-LIFE
We crest the tracks above
ground in time to miss the day's last
word on blue. Schwartzes Leder
in usual style on the platform,
so why at this distance did I expect
her skin all milk and down?
Pockmarks. She's 20 past what
I highballed with all those bodies
between us. I was fixed on her boots.
Think there's a condo Joe in Somerville
maybe slides them off her feet while she
unpins her epaulets, wets a cloth?
Or no? Will she pour a dry sapphire?
Walk a beige retriever along the fragile lights
across the river? We've reached
our stop: THE FRAGILE LIGHTS
ALONG THE RIVER. I'm going
to go turn on the light in my room,
do my part, keep the spectators
panting in their worn seats along the river.
We crest the tracks above
ground in time to miss the day's last
word on blue. Schwartzes Leder
in usual style on the platform,
so why at this distance did I expect
her skin all milk and down?
Pockmarks. She's 20 past what
I highballed with all those bodies
between us. I was fixed on her boots.
Think there's a condo Joe in Somerville
maybe slides them off her feet while she
unpins her epaulets, wets a cloth?
Or no? Will she pour a dry sapphire?
Walk a beige retriever along the fragile lights
across the river? We've reached
our stop: THE FRAGILE LIGHTS
ALONG THE RIVER. I'm going
to go turn on the light in my room,
do my part, keep the spectators
panting in their worn seats along the river.
My apologies
to Rachel Shukert because Blogger broke her lines all funny.
Poets! If line breaks are important to you, then I recommend that you write them shortly, because my knowledge of Things Internet is very small.
Elle Oh Vee Ee,
Shafer
Poets! If line breaks are important to you, then I recommend that you write them shortly, because my knowledge of Things Internet is very small.
Elle Oh Vee Ee,
Shafer
Rachel Shukert is mighty, and she smashes those who stand before her, especially those who disagree with her Scrabble ideals.
Rachel Shukert I - IV
April First
The Holy Father is not well
His mouth moves wanly through his futile vespers;
Nay—it moves not for
God’s Only Messenger on Earth has lost the gift of speech.
Shit happens, says my mother as she chews her pickled whitefish.
Between you and me
I’ve always felt a little Catholic
But it’s springtime now
And mostly I just feel horny.
April Second
The Pope is dead.
In order to be dead,
The Pope must die
Thus fulfilling the Weinstein prophecy.
The Pope is dead.
With Easter past,
Jesus has selfishly eaten the last of the Peeps.
But still He throws wide the door to His house.
Soon the smoky mists of the Papal Conclave will reveal
God’s Newest Only Messenger on Earth
The agents of the Lord do not give up their secrets easily; but one thing is certain
He won’t be a Jew
Or probably, an Arab.
April Third (for Andy Horwitz)
A good thing to do
If you’re having a big party
Like a Bar Mitzvah or a wedding
Is to take a watermelon
Scoop out melon part
And fill the rind with ground beef.
Then take little bits of sausage cut up small
And have them be the seeds.
Voila! You got yourself
A Meat-o-Melon
A Water-meat-on
Whatever you want to call it
It’s some damn fine eating.
April Fourth
One must think of something on the subway, mustn’t one?
Alls I know is
If I was assaulted right now and rushed to the hospital
Here are the things they would find on my person.Three pictures of the Pope, one laminated, two not
Angel wings and Halo costume set. Fake dog shit. A Black baby doll. A package of Washable markers. Flexible plastic tubing
A tiny lion wearing a crown. A small container of cottage cheese. Oh, plus
I’m not wearing any underwear.
And neither is that guy over there
The one with the garbage bag on his head.
April First
The Holy Father is not well
His mouth moves wanly through his futile vespers;
Nay—it moves not for
God’s Only Messenger on Earth has lost the gift of speech.
Shit happens, says my mother as she chews her pickled whitefish.
Between you and me
I’ve always felt a little Catholic
But it’s springtime now
And mostly I just feel horny.
April Second
The Pope is dead.
In order to be dead,
The Pope must die
Thus fulfilling the Weinstein prophecy.
The Pope is dead.
With Easter past,
Jesus has selfishly eaten the last of the Peeps.
But still He throws wide the door to His house.
Soon the smoky mists of the Papal Conclave will reveal
God’s Newest Only Messenger on Earth
The agents of the Lord do not give up their secrets easily; but one thing is certain
He won’t be a Jew
Or probably, an Arab.
April Third (for Andy Horwitz)
A good thing to do
If you’re having a big party
Like a Bar Mitzvah or a wedding
Is to take a watermelon
Scoop out melon part
And fill the rind with ground beef.
Then take little bits of sausage cut up small
And have them be the seeds.
Voila! You got yourself
A Meat-o-Melon
A Water-meat-on
Whatever you want to call it
It’s some damn fine eating.
April Fourth
One must think of something on the subway, mustn’t one?
Alls I know is
If I was assaulted right now and rushed to the hospital
Here are the things they would find on my person.Three pictures of the Pope, one laminated, two not
Angel wings and Halo costume set. Fake dog shit. A Black baby doll. A package of Washable markers. Flexible plastic tubing
A tiny lion wearing a crown. A small container of cottage cheese. Oh, plus
I’m not wearing any underwear.
And neither is that guy over there
The one with the garbage bag on his head.
John April 4!
You're Sleeping I'm Dreaming You're Sleeping
I read a book with a character almost exactly
like you and confused her with you originally,
and later especially. I glossed little differences--
The way you break ice with your heel is not like
how she would have waited for my arm, shiver.
I was confused. I woke with one of you and dreamed
the other, and I'm still not sure which of you reached
for me in the morning. I hid the book
when you came over. It had a pink cover
and dark silhouette half turned toward me
or some store browser. As if you had a bad
thought on your head to shake out.
Only now you're gone
I try to peal you separate, remember you real.
Like, it would have been you, not her
who could steal half of my drink
without my seeing it, you talking
the whole time, your wide eyes open.
And it would have been her who told me
about getting taunted as school for her accent,
and she would have shouted and hollered me
down when I stormed out on Sunday, and you
would have been who I found when I ducked
into the nearest bar, looking for someone there
alone, and she would have warned me about you.
I read a book with a character almost exactly
like you and confused her with you originally,
and later especially. I glossed little differences--
The way you break ice with your heel is not like
how she would have waited for my arm, shiver.
I was confused. I woke with one of you and dreamed
the other, and I'm still not sure which of you reached
for me in the morning. I hid the book
when you came over. It had a pink cover
and dark silhouette half turned toward me
or some store browser. As if you had a bad
thought on your head to shake out.
Only now you're gone
I try to peal you separate, remember you real.
Like, it would have been you, not her
who could steal half of my drink
without my seeing it, you talking
the whole time, your wide eyes open.
And it would have been her who told me
about getting taunted as school for her accent,
and she would have shouted and hollered me
down when I stormed out on Sunday, and you
would have been who I found when I ducked
into the nearest bar, looking for someone there
alone, and she would have warned me about you.
Jaime April 4!
{Pardine Me}
The way I choose to remember it,
it was I who attacked the leopard.
My hollow shank heavy of strange brew.
My trick lust for predators.
The drink took hold of me
umbilically to the jungle
where they burn down trees
to make room for more trees
the way he replaced my drink
with a fresh one before I’d finished.
Watching him change,
purr into his stretch,
a rapacity born of touch and white liquor
stubbed cigarettes out on his pelt.
What trophy, my hands
skimmed the moving fresco of fur,
his wide snout,
the chalk and banter of paws,
the places they’ve been,
the places they’ve been.
Deep in an animal’s eyes
is a challenge, so deep in
a human’s eyes is a flirt.
It was I who charged,
swept bottles to the floor,
pulled the muscles above me
nesting in banyan roots
to cover my face,
cover my mouth,
cover me.
Excuse me, but this is the way
I choose to remember it.
The way God chooses to remember Africa:
the way He created it,
not the way it looks now.
The way I choose to remember it,
it was I who attacked the leopard.
My hollow shank heavy of strange brew.
My trick lust for predators.
The drink took hold of me
umbilically to the jungle
where they burn down trees
to make room for more trees
the way he replaced my drink
with a fresh one before I’d finished.
Watching him change,
purr into his stretch,
a rapacity born of touch and white liquor
stubbed cigarettes out on his pelt.
What trophy, my hands
skimmed the moving fresco of fur,
his wide snout,
the chalk and banter of paws,
the places they’ve been,
the places they’ve been.
Deep in an animal’s eyes
is a challenge, so deep in
a human’s eyes is a flirt.
It was I who charged,
swept bottles to the floor,
pulled the muscles above me
nesting in banyan roots
to cover my face,
cover my mouth,
cover me.
Excuse me, but this is the way
I choose to remember it.
The way God chooses to remember Africa:
the way He created it,
not the way it looks now.
Durge Report: Special Edition (Now I Want Her To Be My Dog)
Word has it that certain well-installed dogs in Boston say that Sybil Durgin writes some kickass poetry:
"Now I want her to be a dog!"
-Costello
"Now I want her to be a dog!"
-Costello
Costello!
mini beef tacos
come on
just one
just one
i know what
here i'll do tricks
i just need one
one little tiny
mini beef taco.
come on
just one
just one
i know what
here i'll do tricks
i just need one
one little tiny
mini beef taco.
Costello!
wait for it.
blackie, i'm watchin
ted williams saw you move
seriously, get over here
i'll keep waiting
crabs don't lie.
blackie, i'm watchin
ted williams saw you move
seriously, get over here
i'll keep waiting
crabs don't lie.
Jamison's April 4!
10:04am
When you pee
Out of your butt
And it makes
A big mess,
It's best not to wipe.
Just take a shower.
6:54pm
Passing gas
Is more of a gamble
For some of us
Than others.
When you pee
Out of your butt
And it makes
A big mess,
It's best not to wipe.
Just take a shower.
6:54pm
Passing gas
Is more of a gamble
For some of us
Than others.
Jamison's April 3!
The best
Is when you're not sure
If you're gonna shit
Or puke,
So you Just sit down
And hope for the best.
Is when you're not sure
If you're gonna shit
Or puke,
So you Just sit down
And hope for the best.
Jamison's April 2!
12:56 pm
Dirty Business
It's not hard
To make a girl cry.
All you need
Is a moment.
2:00pm
Sometimes it's a struggle
To move myself from here,
Once I've arrived.
Cold porcelin
Has a calming effect
That can't be matched.
Dirty Business
It's not hard
To make a girl cry.
All you need
Is a moment.
2:00pm
Sometimes it's a struggle
To move myself from here,
Once I've arrived.
Cold porcelin
Has a calming effect
That can't be matched.
Tuesday, April 05, 2005
Shafer's for April 4th!
I Am Tall
and that is why
you can see my head
poking up out of this dumpster.
I am searching every square inch
for a watch.
Not my watch necessarily,
any watch,
I think that I might be late
for something
but it's been cloudy for days
and I can't find the sun.
My body has lost track
of the ticks it has marked since birth.
When I was a kid
I saw the polar bears at the zoo
swimming in long, lazy
backwards flips,
and I thought
"what a nice way they've found
to keep the time."
and that is why
you can see my head
poking up out of this dumpster.
I am searching every square inch
for a watch.
Not my watch necessarily,
any watch,
I think that I might be late
for something
but it's been cloudy for days
and I can't find the sun.
My body has lost track
of the ticks it has marked since birth.
When I was a kid
I saw the polar bears at the zoo
swimming in long, lazy
backwards flips,
and I thought
"what a nice way they've found
to keep the time."
Monday, April 04, 2005
Ada's for April 4th!
Sitting On Terra Cotta (for T.H)
I dug my nail into the dirt and we
rearranged the rocks into the shape of,
a larger rock, and I told you I had
lost all my imagination. I took the
broken shards of a flower pot
that scattered the porch and
shoved the shards in the green ground.
You turned around and pulled a shard
out from underneath you and said,
you should write a poem and call it,
"sitting on terra cotta." Six years later
I have become much older than
I expected. And a little world-worn
and quieter. The river we stare at
has a different name now and the pope
has died and our addictions have changed,
but we're still keeping things together
like those tiny rocks we rearranged.
I dug my nail into the dirt and we
rearranged the rocks into the shape of,
a larger rock, and I told you I had
lost all my imagination. I took the
broken shards of a flower pot
that scattered the porch and
shoved the shards in the green ground.
You turned around and pulled a shard
out from underneath you and said,
you should write a poem and call it,
"sitting on terra cotta." Six years later
I have become much older than
I expected. And a little world-worn
and quieter. The river we stare at
has a different name now and the pope
has died and our addictions have changed,
but we're still keeping things together
like those tiny rocks we rearranged.
John's for April 4th!
Why Poetry Didn't Bug Me This Afternoon
I've got my Lemonade
My TEARS FOR FEARS
And the Holocene sky is still blue.
I've got my Lemonade
My TEARS FOR FEARS
And the Holocene sky is still blue.
Jen's for April 4th!
Parrot Planet
and one of the planets is composed
entirely of green and grey parrots--
a tight ball, holding onto each other
by foot-to-foot. The moon looping
through the night is also made of parrots--
the shadow of a parrot with open
wings fills its edges when full. Opening,
opening, opening wings and black
eyes rimmed in grey are the stars--
the sun, one delicious yellow seed.
The planet pecks at passerby, puffs up,
preens, then revealing a secret: underneath
it all: blue flight feathers, electric
and shiny as a Chinese butterfly.
and one of the planets is composed
entirely of green and grey parrots--
a tight ball, holding onto each other
by foot-to-foot. The moon looping
through the night is also made of parrots--
the shadow of a parrot with open
wings fills its edges when full. Opening,
opening, opening wings and black
eyes rimmed in grey are the stars--
the sun, one delicious yellow seed.
The planet pecks at passerby, puffs up,
preens, then revealing a secret: underneath
it all: blue flight feathers, electric
and shiny as a Chinese butterfly.
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