Wednesday, May 16, 2018

Meeting Harrison Ford

—Anonymous Villain Pix
—Poems by JD DeHart, Chattanooga, TN


can fight with nothing but

his nasty big toe

has a mustache that when trimmed

will grow

can always win a fight and clobber

any old foe

can solve the problems you have

and it won’t happen
(you get the idea).


The cartoonish, floating
suggestion of conflict from
old ‘60s television shows.

If only life offered us so
many artistic flourishes
for moments of collision.

Uh-Oh, says dear
disappointment, Look
the warning floating

over a friend who is
really a villain in a bad


And did you know
that beneath the polite
surface I have polished,
another, more critical
person hides?

It is not that I am
harboring a fine sense
of disdain.  It is simply
that I have learned the space
between mind and mouth

and how to use it.

One does not wear one's
heart on the outside,
one does not breathe each
bit of air externally.

There are organs of idea,
ontology, and performances
that are best held in check
for polite conversational


As I consider the way
you now have to sign your
name, crude and with
so much effort,

the true weight of your
accident finds me.

I rush upstairs to locate
all the self-portraits,
cartoonish drawings you
made, and I wonder

will you ever make them
again, after endless
surgeries, pins, and screws?


For weeks, I watched
the building being demolished,
noting how the old
passages I read so dearly
were going through similar
breaking down, now reconstructed
in a new, unexpected sound.

 Incompetent Villains


I dreamed something
indiscernible about meeting
Harrison Ford.  It involved
something about a plane.

I'm not sure who else
showed up, but I'm certain
there were other celluloid
heroes lurking nearby.

It was a long dream that
dovetailed into another
dream until I finally woke
up after too little sleep.

The sudden urging to see
the flickering story of
robbing relics, or crossing
stars, or smiling in frame.


Today’s LittleNip:

—JD DeHart

Can you place
the smile in a dark closet?
I hardly think so.

It is a clap on the back,
devoid of that awkward
patting that suggests:

Will this contact end?


—Medusa, with thanks to JD DeHart for his fun poetry today!

 Speaking of villains…
Celebrate the poetry of the good and the naughty!

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