Elliot Lake, Ontario, Canada
—Public Domain Photos Courtesy of Medusa
ESCAPE FROM CRETE
The suitcases are packed
with horror movie hatchets
and the sweater buttons have
come undone.
Partitions slammed over
a hellish crag,
the height of all dominions.
Remember, how Daedalus
skimped on glue
and Icarus took a tumble.
The suitcases are packed
with horror movie hatchets
and the sweater buttons have
come undone.
Partitions slammed over
a hellish crag,
the height of all dominions.
Remember, how Daedalus
skimped on glue
and Icarus took a tumble.
CONTENT CREATOR
He showed me his pay stub,
how the numbers
had been cubed like meat.
The corporate art
on the wall
was fumigated
vomit.
I asked him
why he was a content creator
and not just a creator,
and he said his boss
demanded it.
Even though
he wasn't sure what
content was,
it was very important
that he created
it.
He showed me his pay stub,
how the numbers
had been cubed like meat.
The corporate art
on the wall
was fumigated
vomit.
I asked him
why he was a content creator
and not just a creator,
and he said his boss
demanded it.
Even though
he wasn't sure what
content was,
it was very important
that he created
it.
DOUG BERGMAN’S BOX
I saw it there,
among your things.
It was Doug Bergman's box,
scrawled in black marker.
Scuffed along the edges.
A little worse for wear.
Only,
nobody knew who
Doug Bergman
was.
Just that
he had his own
box.
TIPPING HATS
The medicine man
dancing hellfire
over cobbles
like bursting pianos.
Ezekiel's Wheel
in the heart
of body shop
banter.
Dingos for dogs
and that lie
of bloodless coups.
Of tipping hats
holding the cheek
line.
This rib
I tore away
from a garden
gated man.
Living in boots
and out of boxes.
The adjusters
out cutting rates
like skulking cheese mites
brought back to
market.
The medicine man
dancing hellfire
over cobbles
like bursting pianos.
Ezekiel's Wheel
in the heart
of body shop
banter.
Dingos for dogs
and that lie
of bloodless coups.
Of tipping hats
holding the cheek
line.
This rib
I tore away
from a garden
gated man.
Living in boots
and out of boxes.
The adjusters
out cutting rates
like skulking cheese mites
brought back to
market.
SAM
Sam walked down the street
with the help of Sam's only feet
to get his bread, from the ladies that fed
everyone, even the squirrels
in the trees.
Sam walked down the street
with the help of Sam's only feet
to get his bread, from the ladies that fed
everyone, even the squirrels
in the trees.
MOLD
The allergist
walks into the office,
looks down at his chart
and tells my wife
she should avoid mold.
"Shouldn't everyone avoid mold?"
I interject.
The allergist says nothing,
seems to be avoiding
me.
He must think
I am mold.
The allergist
walks into the office,
looks down at his chart
and tells my wife
she should avoid mold.
"Shouldn't everyone avoid mold?"
I interject.
The allergist says nothing,
seems to be avoiding
me.
He must think
I am mold.
GOLDEN GLOBES
I would like to thank astronomy.
I would like to thank Deuteronomy.
I would like the thank the economy.
I would like to thank salami.
I would like to thank Maserati.
I would like to thank that table full of Robbies.
I would like to thank Benghazi.
I would like to thank the Stasi.
I would like to thank astronomy.
I would like to thank Deuteronomy.
I would like the thank the economy.
I would like to thank salami.
I would like to thank Maserati.
I would like to thank that table full of Robbies.
I would like to thank Benghazi.
I would like to thank the Stasi.
REVERSE GOD
I knew this guy
who refused to shower
all week.
That is,
until Sunday came
around.
Then he'd shower,
and begin all over again.
Like some reverse God.
Rests all week.
And on the seventh day
he showers.
I knew this guy
who refused to shower
all week.
That is,
until Sunday came
around.
Then he'd shower,
and begin all over again.
Like some reverse God.
Rests all week.
And on the seventh day
he showers.
GOODBYE KISSES
Goodbye kisses
find the bend in the road,
tear at ice hut masters
over a hole in the lake.
It's no different in the ground,
a box of goodbye kisses.
The placement of hands
and a goodbye wind.
Everything gone sideways
with the mindless tenured rains.
__________________
Today’s LittleNip:
SIX ON THE PATIO
—Ryan Quinn Flanagan
Five was enough, but we had one more.
Four would have been a travesty,
and three could bake a cake.
Two was close to one,
but we had six.
__________________
Welcome back to Ryan Quinn Flanagan, a SnakePal who is a Canadian-born author residing in Elliot Lake, Ontario, Canada with his wife and many bears that rifle through his garbage. His work can be found both in print and online in such places as Evergreen Review, The New York Quarterly, Medusa's Kitchen, Setu, Lothlorien Poetry Journal, Red Fez, and The Oklahoma Review. Ryan drops in to the Kitchen every now and then when he can thaw himself out, and we're always happy for it!
_________________
—Medusa
Goodbye kisses
find the bend in the road,
tear at ice hut masters
over a hole in the lake.
It's no different in the ground,
a box of goodbye kisses.
The placement of hands
and a goodbye wind.
Everything gone sideways
with the mindless tenured rains.
__________________
Today’s LittleNip:
SIX ON THE PATIO
—Ryan Quinn Flanagan
Five was enough, but we had one more.
Four would have been a travesty,
and three could bake a cake.
Two was close to one,
but we had six.
__________________
Welcome back to Ryan Quinn Flanagan, a SnakePal who is a Canadian-born author residing in Elliot Lake, Ontario, Canada with his wife and many bears that rifle through his garbage. His work can be found both in print and online in such places as Evergreen Review, The New York Quarterly, Medusa's Kitchen, Setu, Lothlorien Poetry Journal, Red Fez, and The Oklahoma Review. Ryan drops in to the Kitchen every now and then when he can thaw himself out, and we're always happy for it!
_________________
—Medusa
One of Ryan's neighbors drops by . . .
—Public Domain Photo Courtesy of Joe Nolan, Stockton, CA
A reminder that
the Sac. Noir Tour takes place
this morning, 9am, starting at
Sacramento Poetry Center;
and contributors from
the Voices anthology
will read at the
Sacramento Poetry Alliance
in Sacramento today, 2pm.
For info about these and other
future 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.
Poets’ bios appear on their first MK visit.
To find previous posts, type the name
of the poet (or poem) into the little
beige box at the top left-hand side
of this column. See also
Medusa’s Rapsheet at the bottom
of the blue column on the right
side of this column to find
any date you want.
Miss a post?
You can find our most recent ones by
scrolling down under this daily one.
Or there's an "Older Posts" button
at the bottom of this column.
(Please excuse typos in older posts!
Blogspot has been through a lot of
incarnations in 20 years!)
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!
the Sac. Noir Tour takes place
this morning, 9am, starting at
Sacramento Poetry Center;
and contributors from
the Voices anthology
will read at the
Sacramento Poetry Alliance
in Sacramento today, 2pm.
For info about these and other
future 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.
Poets’ bios appear on their first MK visit.
To find previous posts, type the name
of the poet (or poem) into the little
beige box at the top left-hand side
of this column. See also
Medusa’s Rapsheet at the bottom
of the blue column on the right
side of this column to find
any date you want.
Miss a post?
You can find our most recent ones by
scrolling down under this daily one.
Or there's an "Older Posts" button
at the bottom of this column.
(Please excuse typos in older posts!
Blogspot has been through a lot of
incarnations in 20 years!)
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!
