Wednesday, April 16, 2014

Alan Catlin- Three Poems

The Perfect Storm

"Where did it come from
& how did they get it?"
was the refrain medical
examiners like homicide
detectives pondering
 imponderables, demise of
'the slant six', a half dozen
homeless drunks pooled
resources contained by
brown paper bags & a half
pint of pure white lightning,
the idea was drop a shot of
clear stuff into the devil's
own brew and they'd be
doing a Tango on Main Street
though it turned out to be more
of a Heartbreak Tango,
an impromptu Conga line
with Old Mr. Bones, pure
alcohol sent straight to
the brain inducing a perfect
storm involving two hemi-
spheres, a free fire zone of
imploding, already soft with
drink, tissues, one last massive
cerebral event, 'haven't seen
anything like this since that
short lived grain alcohol craze,
at least they died with a buzz on'
smacked in the face by a killer wave

Liquid Oblivion

Their lives could be
measured in shot glasses,
all their time spent
on barstools or lying
nearby, marked at home
by rings worn into
wooden coasters straight
through & onto surface
of bar top, he in for
the long haul, every
waking moment not
spent in the office,
engaged in pursuit
of liquid oblivion,
elixirs of forgetfulness,
all the libations from
lotus eating land,
songs of sirens annoying
distractions along these
ragged shores of his
own personal Styx,
the little woman along
for the ferry ride,
fully understanding,
following the path
of liquidity was the only
way she could go with
him where he needed
to go, black circles under
their eyes likes tree rings,
each new mark another
year spent in solitary
contemplation of the end.

Flaming Armadillo

His greased monkey
shine t-shirt sd.
& it appeared
as if he'd been
sleeping in one
of those burn
barrels for hazardous
waste or maybe
just manning the
post that started
the flame & had
become so taken
with his work that he
forgot to stand back
behind that caution
line or maybe he
was on the way to
an audition for some
heavy metal band as
a drummer with a
name like SPINAL
TAP, whatever his
story it was apparent
that if he started
rubbing his hands
together, you'd better
stand back.

No comments:

Post a Comment