Russell Streur- Two Poems

FAT MIND, COOKING UP A RECIPE

Fat Mind:  Get this.

Goons:   Yes boss?

Fat Mind:  We’ll set Clubfoot up as King.

Goons:   That idiot?

Fat Mind:  The very one.

Goons: The citizens won’t stand a trick like this.

Fat Mind:  They won’t know what hit ‘em.  We’ll disguise it as a vote.

Chorus of the Fat:  We’ll sit still for that, like we always do for shit.

Fat Mind:  Just sugarcoat the crap and call it cake.

Goons:   We’ll need more salt to suit the modern taste.

Fat Mind:  A touch of tallow, labeled spice.

Goons:  The chemists will produce upon the tongue a natural delight.

Fat Mind:  Double every dose and cut the price in half. 

Goons:   We’ll scarf it down like hamburger.

Fat Mind:  The rest is gravy.

 

MIDNIGHT

Meet me in the Cumberland

Your eyelids painted silver

Cheeks aflame in dancing cranes

Meet me when the moon is full

With songs of ravens on your tongue

And hemlock on your breath

Meet me at the gate on Cemetery Hill

Your seven veils falling loose

At midnight in the cypress trees

Meet me as my lover on these graves

Until serpents coil in our hair

And our bodies turn to stone:

The dead

Need something to fear.

Russell Streur is a born again dissident residing in Atlanta, Georgia.  His poetry has been published in the United States and Europe.  He currently pours drinks at The Camel Saloon, an online poetry bar for dromedaries, malcontents and jewels of the world.  Which one are you?  http://thecamelsaloon.blogspot.com/