Monday, January 18, 2016

Alan Catlin- Three Poems


 Looney Tunes probably

 wasn't born with
 eyes permanently
 crossed but they
 sure as hell were
 now.  The blue one
 focused on a Bugs Bunny
 feature, the other one
 on a Road Runner.
 I guessed he would
 be rooting for the
 Coyote, he was that
 much of a loser.   
 Watching him miss his
 mouth from every
 conceivable approach
 was amusing for awhile,
 I even bought him a
 beer to prolong the show,
 until he became abusive,
 Sd:" That fucking Coyote  
 never catches that
 asshole bird."
 That's the whole point,
 actually."
 "What the fuck do you know,
 you're just some stupid
 asshole bartender."
 "Like the Coyote?" 
 "That's right jerkoff."
 One thing I do know
 is you're out of here
 and your beer is gone."
 I wondered which cartoon
 show I was in after he
 flipped me the bird.
I watched him stagger
 toward the door as did
 everyone else so I
 started a spontaneous bet:
 "Who's got money on how
 many trees this guy passes
 before he puts himself down?"
 Sammy throw in a buck and
 count trees."
 It was a safe bet he wouldn't
 make it far.  There was
 twenty bucks on the bar
 that said he wouldn't,
it was just a matter
of when and how many:
 easy money even if it
 was split four ways.



He was clueless in Gaza

 sucking on the folds
 of his cheeks, one
 side at a time, back
 and forth, running his
 tongue over the spaces
 where his teeth should
 have been, working on
 moaning sound deep
 inside that rose in
 intensity until it
 looked as if he might
 explode from all the
 time bombs that were
 going off inside.
 He was so leached out
 and wide eyed without
 life or force, he didn't
 have the energy anymore
 to defend himself against
 the demons that had
 taken over.  He looked
 in my direction, blue
 eyes in a field of red
 I'd seen dead men with
 a better chance of making
 it out of whatever desert
 they were in than him.



 The synopsis of his

 naval career in
 "that South Asian war."
 Was tattooed all over
 his body. "This here
 be Hawaii on his biceps.
 Don't she wiggle it
 nice?  Cost me tres
 beaucoup combat bucks.
 This be Singapore.
 Great Whorehouses there
 but nothing like Thailand
 or Cambodia.  These two
 are from just outside
 Cam Rahn Bay." I could
 tell by the blue herons
 sticking over the crow
 neck velour shirt that
 we were going to hear
 a lot more about his tour .   
 I could hardly wait
 'til he went back.  


1 comment:

  1. Alan Catlin makes us think out of the box from essence,
    experience, energy and synergy of unsettling our own innocence.

    ReplyDelete