Mrs. Woolf Visits Canta Ranas--Watches El Pájaro Loco
Truth
comes in various intensities
Of
dilution, and even in this avian display
Of
ludicrous rudeness, a woman must say
How
here one sees surreptitious fantasies,
Although
this laugh of horrid victory
Reminds
me a bit of someone I used to know
Who
laughed that way some fifteen years ago
Till
my aversion finally set us free.
We
all carve our presence as we go,
Sometimes
with vengeful comicality,
But
how do we deal with this sad paucity
Of
living trees here in Laredo?
In
the beginning, was there this word
Pecked
out so loudly by this rude bird?
Flower Child with Crocodile Briefcase Heartens a Beloved but Lying Friend
You can’t negotiate
the Crucifixion, dear,
It’s like space or
distance, like light,
But better, always
living, always here
Blessing all
Creation day and night.
Remember when we
went to fish that lake
In Arlington, and
I got mad and took a knife
And somehow
hitchhiked home before daybreak?
You thought I
hoped to throw away my life,
But foolish things
sometimes do make us wise
And bring us to
the truth with opened eyes.
Here you have it,
proof of all I say,
In this breathing
body, this reverent thing
Where love glows
gently, and gently I pray
That your
dissonant spirit will sing
In the
transforming light of perpetual sunrise.
A Snap of the Fingers
Volumes of persuasion, a rain frog concealed
In a peeling house in a desert town where you
Circulate through bad decisions revealed
By bitter experience, baggage that got through
Customs—the second-best camera never fails—
Brought home by lethargy’s lightly flapping sails,
And Ruth makes watermelon punch so damned red
Fire-trucks blush as they gasp and moan
And wake Laredo’s roosters from the dead
Sleep hovering heavily and lingering on,
And little lizards scuttle forth from sunburnt bricks
To tell you silently all they have learned
From their ancestors of acrobatic tricks.
But no, Mr. Gloom de Doom, you’ve been burned,
And when that all-embracing Easter Bunny died,
All of your treasured hopes and dreams were fried.
Big K Lands among the Capitalists
“Khrushchev’s Due
at Idlewild”*
“Prove it before
these varlets here, thou honorable man, prove it!” –Constable Elbow
No
one arrested this cardiac fire until
An
accident smothered it with swill.
So
since then, one just lets it roll
Halfway
oblivious to control.
Give
way to decency, stand aside for pain,
Put
the flags in the trash can. Keep praying for rain.
Nice
work with that dagger, O Queen of the Nile,
I’ll
put down my banjo and die with a smile,
Though,
like Bugs Bunny, I’ll rise in awhile.
Hammer
on the table with the Soviet shoe,
And
I’ll tell the microphones the party is through.
Your
eyes still manage to cause train wrecks,
But
my card is gone from your index.
It’s
three-chord apathy that buys the right
To
wait here at this red green light.
*from
the theme song of “Car 54, Where Are You?”
Carpet Page for Vernacular Watercraft
I only drink water just before I drown,
Grinned the old man with the too-bright eyes.
Never put out a fire before it dies
Or go to a funeral with a sober clown.
Here I have it easy; my only sorrow
Is that my dogs will wonder where I went
And miss the morning treats their angels sent
When I kick the sun tomorrow.
Be careful with love, always respect
The lady of Cyprus, whose deadly might
Will wrap you up in a knot so tight
You'll never get to sleep at night,
Eaten internally for bitter neglect.
Give her honour; pass on one side
If possible, give a discreet shake
Of your bells, for love's sweet sake,
And never assume her power has died.
I only drink water just before I drown,
Grinned the old man with the too-bright eyes.
Never put out a fire before it dies
Or go to a funeral with a sober clown.
R. W. Haynes has taught Early English literature and Shakespeare for many years at a university in South Texas. His verse has appeared in various journals, and two collections of his work appeared in 2019. His focus as scholar has been on Tudor dialogue and the American playwright Horton Foote.
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