Wednesday, April 8, 2015

David Spiering- a poem caused by...

a poem caused by an interesting             perhaps non-ho-hum             perpendicular notion

whereas all the competitive aggression I witness on tv cooking shoes is meant as an insidious plot by the FFJ&PF sovereignty commission to convince people they can’t cook
and therefore                        the people must rely on fast-food junk foods and processed foods
so             be it resolved                        that money jumps in the corporate pockets while busy people hop on one foot for cash as they daydream how unawareness becomes tangible as boil bag spaghetti and meatballs for supper

a poem caused by my wondering about how long good luck lasts

it’s sad to watch the homeless people weighted down by sleeping bags and tarps
as they haunt the cold air
I squeeze my pennies so hard that Lincoln’s eyes bug out

a poem caused by a BBC mystery murder show on public TV

every time I grab my flour bag by its pseudo pig ears I see the image of a condemned murderer             seconds before the rope tightens
the white bag on his head is completed by a set of mock pig ears

five poems caused by the act of being duck hawked

you’ll know you’re duck hawked
when you know the truest thing about pain
is that you’ll always feel it            otherwise
your brain is like a super ball
one minute you’re in the gutter
the next you’re jumping bridges and balconies
all for the sake of the rockets red glare
afterwards your head hurts
as if its been thumped by a crowbar

 you’ll see and know it when people laugh at the misfortunes of those folks “otherwised” by life’s conventional wisdom

when a voice from the sewer says to you some day you’ll be broke and you’ll learn how it feels to eat your fingernails

you’ll know it when a woman’s lips split like liver over her chin
and her hips are shaped like boxing gloves that punch at your blank spaces

when you locate that liminal terminal gray zone between loneness and logic and love and peace and anger
and the options it conjurers in you mind don’t make any good sense to you

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