The
Poetry Of Keith McFarlane
Gold
Teeth King
Grit's no southern breakfast here.
It's on the sidewalks and in the grunge-covered streets
lunging onto the alleyway from distended dumpsters.
Paper covers grit-man, black with stocking cap,
holes in knees, teeming, reeking.
Teeth grime and slime covered, gingivitis,
like the boulevard, school yard. No brush or
floss to agitate or pick out the loss and
shame. He lives around the corner from
the Gold Teeth King. They walk in and out
talkin bout I need some bling in my mouth
when all he needs is a filling and a crown.
Why
Poets Hate Periods
the thoughts i am thinking are so profound
that they barely fit in my head
they barely fit within my cranium you see
so how should a sentence constrain them
that was a question just in case you couldnt tell
if i tried to write such terribly terribly
deep thoughts
fencing them in with periods
then it would remove the romance
as periods always do
if i used punctuation the way they want
me to use it
the word they above is quoted in case its not obvious
and couldnt should have an apostrophe
and all of this is in parentheses
then all of my thoughts would look like this
Hi there! My name is Bob! Glad to meet you!
I'm from the 1950's! I follow rules! I go to church!
I hate gays but love Liberace! I have money in my savings account!
I don't live in a loft!
but i am above such constraints
for i am a poet
picture that in italics because its much more effective
and also please imagine adding a comma after constraints
Camera
I spy with my little eye a camera.
It takes pictures -- pictures of lovely things,
pictures of the mundane.
Pictures like Norman Rockwell paintings and pictures like snuff
film stills.
This camera doesn't know much about framing, or shadow play,
or effective use of blur
but it knows subjects.
Hello camera, fixed upon yon light post
perch!
Would I have seen you had I not followed this seagull with my
eyes
past a row of stolid suburban ranch-style houses
past students walking home from the local elementary
and the pretty lady among them
past the big red octagon proclaiming my need to STOP
and into the gray-mottled sky?
Well, I'm glad to make your acquaintance,
as you certainly weren't there yesterday.
I AM CAMERA
AND I KNOW YOU
snap - there's Mrs. Johnson, one of the teachers at the school.
Hello, Mrs. Johnson.
Has checked out the following books from
the library:
"Divorce and money : how to make the best financial decisions
during divorce"
"The Bell Jar"
"God is not great [how religion poisons everything]"
Has the following children:
Sally, nine years old.
Eva, six years old.
Shows up in several local newspaper articles as involved in school
functions.
I AM CAMERA
I SURMISE THAT
Mrs. Johnson IS A POTENTIAL ATHEIST AND MAY POTENTIALLY LEAVE
HER HUSBAND
AND MAY BE A SUICIDE RISK
I SURMISE
THAT Mrs. Johnson HAS GREAT POTENTIAL TO BE INFLUENCED BY
HER RELATIONSHIP WITH HER CHILDREN
I SURMISE
THAT Mrs. Johnson
CAN BE CONTROLLED
transmitting
Camera, have mercy upon me
For I am a mere subject, and know not what I do
Or what you have seen of it
Or where it is that you store it all
Or to whom you have shown it
Or whether or not you have put all of the pieces of my life's
puzzle together.
Panic - I panic - for this is not the only
camera.
Now there are cameras at every street corner
and on every porch and in the skies above.
I panic and bend to the ground, panic and grab a rock.
Panic and throw it towards the top of the light post,
but not before
snap
STOP
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