—Art Courtesy of Public Domain
PLASTIC FACTORY SURVIVAL
Inside grey cold aluminum booth
sits ground dust covered
numbered and forgotten
human flesh blood machine.
Mumbles half tunes of forgotten melodies
to snake hiss beat of grindstones smoothing plastic
at $1/2.1/41/4 an hour plus overtime and a half.
Dreams of running moonshine on Georgia coast—
illegal adventure stealing across fog moon highways
with saucy plump harlot
waiting silently in early morning hours.
Cursing eight to five six days a week
with exhaustion strain at end
of another day - week - month - year.
Plans only memory hopes
once visited in flesh papered bookstores
and small motel lobbies on two-week paid vacation.
Talks nonsense with black plastic tubes
as three-day beard growth hides
itchy fiberglass infected face.
Dozes from boredom into a phantom trance
questioning survival until social security salvation:
then awakes to supervisor bringing more plastic.
Inside grey cold aluminum booth
sits ground dust covered
numbered and forgotten
human flesh blood machine.
Mumbles half tunes of forgotten melodies
to snake hiss beat of grindstones smoothing plastic
at $1/2.1/41/4 an hour plus overtime and a half.
Dreams of running moonshine on Georgia coast—
illegal adventure stealing across fog moon highways
with saucy plump harlot
waiting silently in early morning hours.
Cursing eight to five six days a week
with exhaustion strain at end
of another day - week - month - year.
Plans only memory hopes
once visited in flesh papered bookstores
and small motel lobbies on two-week paid vacation.
Talks nonsense with black plastic tubes
as three-day beard growth hides
itchy fiberglass infected face.
Dozes from boredom into a phantom trance
questioning survival until social security salvation:
then awakes to supervisor bringing more plastic.
OVEREXPOSED FILM
The alleged spirit
automatically freezes
when confronted by
an irresistible desire
to examine first-hand
the hidden repression
as a means of
complete soul exposure.
The wicked dream phantoms
who reside just beyond
the surface of
dilemma and solution
seek proper identification
for this confidential proposal.
Incorrect interpretation
could destroy
a concise balance
and replace companionship
with the mandatory dogma
of astonished retreat.
ALASTOR’S ARRIVAL
I spot the revenant as he exits
the old battered Jeep 4 x 4.
With a full gray-brown beard
and ten years and three combat deployments,
few, if any, people recognize him.
In a worn military green t-shirt
and tactical “camo” shorts,
several scars range from old to recent.
His slow walk could be mistaken
as that of a sloth-like dullard.
I know it is instinctive precision.
Finding my grandfather in his porch rocker,
I give him the news.
He shakes his ponytailed grey head
“There’s going to be hell to pay.
Better go tell Doc Chiron.”
WITHOUT REGULAR MAINTENANCE
They are coming to the end
in the same manner
as an open-gated truck
comes down
a steep
‘use low gear’ hill
without brakes.
Beside the tire squeals
and the flying dirt and gravel,
there is a certain
internal thrill
which compensate
for the gnawing loss.
The ‘breaks’ haven't gone
their way,
so, they hold on
as long as they can.
___________________
Today’s LittleNip:
WASH WOMAN
—R. Gerry Fabian
You, laundromat!
A two-cycle wash
then spin-dry me out.
So automatic.
Fabric softener kisses
like an empty soap dispenser.
Your heart is so filled with lint
that you drain my fluid love
to render me but soapsuds.
Then,
you accept the coins of others.
___________________
—Medusa, with thanks to R. Gerry Fabian for today’s fine poetry!
WASH WOMAN
—R. Gerry Fabian
You, laundromat!
A two-cycle wash
then spin-dry me out.
So automatic.
Fabric softener kisses
like an empty soap dispenser.
Your heart is so filled with lint
that you drain my fluid love
to render me but soapsuds.
Then,
you accept the coins of others.
___________________
—Medusa, with thanks to R. Gerry Fabian for today’s fine poetry!
And a note that the February issue of Poet News from Sacramento Poetry Center is now available at https://www.sacpoetrycenter.org/poetnews/.
R. Gerry Fabian
A reminder that today
MoSt will hold its annual
Poetry Festival in Modesto;
Nancy Gonzalez St. Clair
facilitates a workshop in Lodi;
Kathleen Lynch will celebrate
a book release at Sac. Poetry Center;
and Dan Rounds and Richard Lopez
will read at Sacramento Poetry Alliance.
For info about these and other
upcoming poetry happenings in
Northern California and otherwheres,
click on
UPCOMING NORCAL EVENTS
(http://medusaskitchen.blogspot.com/p/wtf.html)
in the links at the top of this page—
and keep an eye on this link and on
the daily Kitchen for happenings
that might pop up
—or get changed!—
during the week.
Photos in this column can be enlarged by
clicking on them once, then clicking on the x
in the top right corner to come back to Medusa.
Find previous four-or-so posts by scrolling down
under today; or there's an "Older Posts" button
at the bottom of this column; or find previous poets
by typing the name of the poet or poem
into the little beige box at the top
left-hand side of today’s post; or go to
Medusa’s Rapsheet at the bottom of
the blue column at the right
to find the date you want.
Would you like to be a SnakePal?
Guidelines are at the top of this page
at the Placating the Gorgon link;
send poetry and/or photos and artwork
to kathykieth@hotmail.com. We post
work from all over the world—including
that which was previously published—
and collaborations are welcome.
Just remember:
the snakes of Medusa are always hungry—
for poetry, of course!
