Monday, May 20, 2013

You Da' Boss!

Eva West reading last Saturday at the
Foam at the Mouth poetry series
—Photo by Michelle Kunert, Sacramento


—evan myquest, rancho murieta

such a reasonable city
only when traveling north
is it i before e
south of c
m is for missing
when naming off streets
with x tough to cross
y street a questionable broad way
at least j ends west and then goes east
r is for pirate talk at the pub fox n goose
but s has no curves
fast or loose
so that ‘tween boulevard and street
avenue and way
as perplexing as intersecting fifth and first
all i can say
is zelda’s and pete’s must change places
several times a day
if you get up on a levee to look around
careful not to step back or you could drown
k street turns into a no car walking mall
(and back again)
with a statue to rose of lima for the birds
and btw shouldn't a broadway be two words
mind the light winding rail and heavy north south tracks
the heart of the city maps look stitched as a monster
love it or don’t go near
it’s a wonder of art and commerce it’s clear
but don't expect anything in the fridge
at your friends on poverty ridge
straight scoop
you can't even eat where they make campbell’s soup
for a misspent life you’re probably headed out folsom
but near 80 and el camino there's the bread factory called holsum
tenth hits eighth which is previous
which is ultimately so devious
sacramento once had its share of towers
and gave shakey’s its name
we get an arithmetic lesson going east and west
numbers not letters this time so give it a rest
with movies on 12th at the crest
but watch as second rounds and turns into s
luckily it's front not zero
or zero and O would loop and be eight
the funnest thing to do
is ask if anyone's parked on u or i
wouldn't abbot and costello have fun with watt and howe
no u and first
not watt—howe
neverrrrr mind
no y at all just broadway
no not going there again
ah sacramento
such a reasonable city
for flying over
wondering what i said
that you stopped at x and left off zed


—Caschwa, Sacramento

The environment applied constant
pressure from the shiny examples
set by superstars, certified experts
and run of the mill high achievers

so to keep up I built a robot around
my frail, faulty frame and programmed
it with a few choice words:
"I do", "yes dear", "no thank you"

emotions are pretty much
a lost, alien art form, though
my robot can feel empathy
for booster rockets and landfills

like a snake shedding its skin
my robot will autmatically upgrade,
download, update, and reconfigure
itself to conform to a higher purpose

which shall remain forever unknown
to me, the spectator inside
watching events miraculously unfold
without leaving any creases.

 Josh McKinney at Foam at the Mouth
—Photo by Michelle Kunert


Eyes getting older
need an updated prescription
got an exam
new trifocals

I can see clearly now:
the past
the present
the future

the history channel
breaking news
traffic and weather
all one needs to see

alcohol solution
and a clean cloth
wipe away the
plu-perfect stain

read my bank balance
happy to have one
a flood of bills
in biblical proportion

tired of politics
so far from the truth
a media circus
alienating voters

elections conducted
like parimutual lotto
where who wins what
depends on how many vote

car problems
by design
not user serviceable


(after Alice Walker's "I Said to Poetry")

Paper is for
folding and flying
where the wind takes it

pens are for
clicking, clicking
annoyingly ccclicking

poetry is the wailing wall
get there by whatever means
express yourself with any tools

it can be skipping a stone on the water
preening your teen for a wedding
laughing uncontrollably

posting comments on the Internet
regarding issues that concern you
that the high court would not address

memories demand to be shared
broadcast like radio programs
even if they are awful

"Think about that."

go scrawl on the wall
vent some fumes
rearrange rocks

there ain't no god of poetry to serve
you da' boss!
get that shit out there


Today's LittleNip:

—evan myquest

the old dawn and yawn

bent over for the newspaper on the lawn

ass scratching back arching greeting old Mrs. Braun

here I am, no shorts and maybe one shoe

ruining her day, too



 Stan Zumbiel at Foam at the Mouth
—Photo by Michelle Kunert