The booger picker
Stretching longer than ether.
Bringing forth pumpkins.
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Category: Abstract Poetry
September Poem 45: Loosen Your Tie, Mr. President
3 a.m. Twitter rantings. The frequent
Bouts of spirit writing. Fingers pecking
Like a field full of hens rushing in on
A computer keyboard in the midst of
A falling handful of feed. The morning
Covfefe and the nicknames like red neck-
Ties pulled so tight. Raining down fire and
Fury like rocket man. Like you’ve never
Seen. Like the storm’s urge of goiter flowing
Over his weak chin. And the circular
Purse of lips like a hanged man grasping for
One last breath of air. Fighting to hold on
To purpled tongue thrusting from rush of blood.
A half waking dream holding to something.
September Poem 44: Kraven the Hunter
When was the last time that you heard from him?
Can you believe you are still mad? All this
From a simple two lines of text. It had
Been so long, yet you allowed yourself to
Blaze. To spark the old man’s breath that caused the
Long ash to fall. Because it’s better, they
Say. Famously so. The memories. They
Crumble as you cut. The Fries. I’m sure he
Would have treated you. He realized that you
Were married with faith in foods like the French.
The cool. The air conditioner people.
Cut the people. Enjoy the line digging
The channels for wires to atone for
What he’s done. Would you give his redemption?
September Poem 42: The Refugee Camp
He dipped the water from the well center
Of the camp. The water from the dipper
Flowed out and over the land and into
Refugee camp, up the lanes, and onto
The dirt floors. The quick smash and blood starting
Over. It flowed through washing out home and
Business and fortune. Washing out family
And community. Leaving only the
Hard greatness of knuckles. And the ankle
Deep mud in the streets. The thick mud sucking
At your shoes. The mud that never really
Washes away. The mud that stains your soul. And
The numbing wet of being forgotten.
The wet of no why or when or how long.
September Poem 41: Gundam: A Series of Cinquains
Motion
Detective to
The sleek enamel and
Curves of sheeted steel waking the
Giant.
Motion
Detective to
The sleek enamel and
Curves of sheeted steel waking Des-
Truction.
Motion
Detective to
The sleek enamel and
Destruction in large thumping steps.
Creeking.
Motion
Detective to
The mountainside. The glint
Of steel black and red under stone.
Shedding.
Motion
Bringing to life
The beast of a thousand
Years. Unmanned awakening
Golem.
September Poem 40: 3 Cinquains on the Subject of Religion
Speaking in Tongues
Lifted.
Communion with
The spirit. He was a
Knock at the door. Removed.
Distant.
Prayer
Willing
Mind reading and
Human understanding
To the completion of his will
For naught.
The Exorcist
Knuckles
Insisted on
Bringing a gun in case
God had a brother hiding blind
Ambush.
September Poem 35: Expulsion from the Garden
Religious platitudes. The red ribbons
Of strange waxy weeds in the ever more
Inviting sea of silken fabric that
Wraps the ocean floor more frequent than the
Cristian fortune cookies deposited
There. He would be too cold girding with faith
And the bumps with the father less and
Less frequent like the weird currents of warm
And cold that come with blind reaching for the
Top button on a woman’s blouse before
The series of unbuttoning far too
Expert for the woman’s comfort. The wet
Cold of the ocean far too close to the
Sensation of warmth. To close to family.
