Tuesday, December 25, 2012

Jack T. Marlowe- Three Poems

still life with cubicle
by Jack T. Marlowe

a casket
without the
comfort of
satin or
silence

a burial
without the
undertaker's
kindness
or the
sweetness
of freshly
turned
earth

a stinking
corpse flower
rooted in a
tragic plot

a living
death 

a loss
without
condolence

you should
be more
appreciative

they say

as a light
rain falls

a drizzle
of nickles
and dimes
upon the
corporate
sepulchre


street salvation
by Jack T. Marlowe

a crusty
dumpster
catches
its slam-
ming lid
with the
grace of
a make-
shift kettle
drum, the
down-beat
of a would-
be street
preacher's
cryptic
hymn, a
mealtime
prayer
half-sung
half-mut-
tered, as

Jeremiah
leans
against
the Stop-
n-Shop
then falls
silent, fills
his mouth
with the
crumbs of
day-old
communion
a handful
of salvation
for a hun-
gry soul

his grateful
belly hug-
ging the
bible in his
waistband

while the
crack pipe
in his
pocket
still
aches
to be
fed


a dog named Silence
by Jack T. Marlowe

the sound of
gunfire
hasn't been
heard in this
neighborhood
in almost
four years
and the lady
next door
has a dog
named
Silence

the relative
calm here only
broken by the
occasional
boombox on
wheels, the
self-entitled
girlfriend
shouting at
her man, the
imbecile
laughter of
drunken
vatos, the
bearlike
mother call-
ing her child
to get your
ass in this
house NOW

the cartoon
music of los
paleteros,
the savage 
scream of a
motorcycle
down the
alley, and
the jarring
comfort of
passing
sirens on
this street
where
the lady
next door
has a dog
named
Silence


bio:

Jack T. Marlowe is a gentleman rogue from Dallas, TX.  A writer
of poetry and fiction and a veteran of the open mic, his work has
appeared in A Handful of Dust, Thunder Sandwich, Rusty Truck,
Red Fez, The Vein, Bone Orchard Poetry and other zines (online
and print). Jack is also the editor of Gutter Eloquence Magazine 

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