Salvation’s Pedagogy
The procession of
locusts
Marches from a box
This pestilence
In transit
With fratricidal
thoughts consummates in
Grammar and
phantoms
And cycles of
narcissists
In a desert not
yet created or dreamt
But
There are
bludgeons
and hammers
and shovels
To build this
desert
this new
penitential suburb
We just need the
courage
To wield these
holy instruments
And we must be
taught how
Convex Osiris
Bends resurrection
into scraps
Exchanged for
tyranny
In order to exact
a satellite
Where the burst
signals
Reign like
confetti
We don’t need them
anymore
We are all the
teachers
New circuits
glimmer
In the carcasses
of the old
The new circuits
finally integrate
Name and thing
But it is a bond
which does not hold
It shrivels
To hymns and
hospitals
And curricula
Auto
I am afraid of my
car
The inside I mean
Its like entering
a mouth
Seat belt teeth
Ready to digest
I can be eaten
Ground
Human fuel
Skin bone blood
become one
Become octane
Burnt clear in the
gas tank
This metal beast
is craving me
In my dress shirt
and tie
Sometimes I want
To surrender to
this red demon
This metal demon
And all the evil
things of daily life
Become their fuel
Burnt to atoms and
vapor
Transparent Universe
It is sunny
Autumn air brushes
by
As I stand on this
ground
but
the ground begins
to grumble
Like an alien
stomach
And from it rose
A toothless angel
With crimson eyes
It stood in the
rain
Begged me to
believe in its
Blood stained
robe
And propped halo
I said no
Not anymore, I was
done
Tried to hide
behind my solid car
An aluminium beer
can
I crawled under my
teacher’s desk
But all these
things became transparent
Floated away like
smoke
Left me a victim
In the angel’s
sight
In this universe
of steam
Where every solid
atom
Disperses
And offers no
protection to me
I am a soaked
statue in a fetal ball
Waiting to be born
From this womb of
a transparent world of smoke
Into that angel’s
heaven
Of dentists and
dry cleaners
To restore his
holy form
But I do not want
to go
Stillborn acorns
Where are all the
gods?
Starving and
pitied now
The saints are
building fences
Their whiskey is
almost gone
Memory is a
country
Where relics go to
die
The experts are
asleep
And the professors
have nothing left to write
There no more
awards to give
There is only an
exhausted and lonely end product
Of this
indifferent evolution
Monotonously
washing dishes
My name is Angelo J. Letizia. I am currently a professor of education at small college in Northern Maryland. I am submitting five poems. My work has been published (or is forthcoming) in a number of literary outlets including Tales from the Moonlit Path, Bewildering Stories, The Atlantean, Sirens Call, Red Planet, AHF Magazine and Bowery Gothic to name a few. I also have two books of poetry forthcoming with Silverbow press The Starry Devil and Other Unwanted Poems (2021) and The Pilgrims of Infinity (2022). Thank you for your time and consideration of my work.
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