Gallery > Poems & Stories

Baking bread too close to Mister's auto shop,
someone like mother relatively rigged
small bursts of fireworks in the kitchen stove.
Peltings of dirt and candy rocks and butter rolls
moved through the coast and the waistline
with lives and wives lost at sea.
You see?
I saw!

A swath of destruction; buttons galore.
And hair was cropped endangering species.
Powerful waves fell down the stairs, candied pears.
too damaged to put the points down,
or the flags up.
She's changing the rules
and flipping coins throughout space.
About face!

The cook climbed the hill .
What a laugh!
Not even met by a comma or a semicolon.
Or even a question mark.
New paragraph!

They kept dozens of new captives
taken by outsiders like you
Another blow! Another place!
That's true!
They may face the most damage,
when they meet your carbolic mood,
A prayer beside your soliloquy.
The final piece of art pushing through
Just ship the corpses home in a football tin.

The head of special moments
is illuminated by response.
Take action, he said!
Hang it about the house!
Turn it on! Transmit!
Conclude!
Play dead!

I never got that emotional liberation out of my head.

Doomsday
Dada - Poetry
2016