Four Poems by Joshua Martin

 

A Trousers in the Wind



Mass constructed flying shoes


all the FURY


the jury


presented as a


shoeshine kit then


a pair of


TAP SHOES


once worn by CYD


CHARISSE


the last time she


committed an atrocity.





Hopeful glaring


stomach cancer


acid. Pulled up


sock suspenders


at


crusade level kettle


drum


banging . / .





Something


indecisive happened


b/t call to arms


annual print editions &


a BURNING


TURNING


CHURNING


demon masked


gobbled &


positioned to the


left of summer


solstice. Can’t we


all just wring our necks?





Spilling cloudy


ink


afterwards


knuckles


crumbled


shallow


half-lizard


remarks


in pillbox


formal attire


like TOP HAT


& tails.





Where tho did


lessons scratch


the eyes of miles


who beg for shade


amid whirling


helicopter blades


robust yet fading


grief stricken yet


altogether smirking


as a violent act of


possessive &


regressive childhood.





At least


leave alone


&


heave ho


beyond thunder


cloud milk


chocolate


chicken


liver drumstick


seductive tho


reductive at


the particle


level


of misbehaving


shovel grave


stone


backward


propelling


summation


only a latter


connection


to step lightly


as ice flows


creamsicle


like as if


standing in


a doorway


grand enough


palms to


manage


an apple


orchard.





To the ground


SWELL


ing


in


snowdrift


MOUNTAINS


as sullen as a


cucumber is


solid.





There’s no


OTHER


meanwhile


to grasp in the


parachute


pants


of yore.





Jupiter papercut sworn to secrecy



Baring STRAIGHT


forgetmeNOT to sight a


Zest of fingerprint ZaP!!!!!!!!!!





pappy prints radical


gripe, against


inventory:


enough innovation


to make YA sick


, Quick! ,


pick 2 rooster


shells to


SiN an Artuad


would growl


, stench of beautified


boulevard—


crash!





Flung ON-


WARD! UP! WARD!





lil’ Pyramid Scheme o’ the doses /


Annie Rooney in a scooter disaster


Mining club loch ness


pervert w/ a TaN—


TeN BiLl fold


ing stAMp AcT


could not mercy beam


of brief bubbly bareback


, > truly a grease , at rest a


zit





Unbroken chronological endeavours



Lobster marvel consultations


organized Prophet of


Status Quo fetishists


,, time<ed> fast ,, wavering


view=


POINT (confined map) >>>


polar buckles


signify regimes of omissions


/ Archipelagos increasing NuDgInG


tracts;;;;;


turn,ed AN [is]land=


filtered visibility


institutionalized translation


, fantasy shrieking , merging , upended


mincemeat , polluted


imperialist texts


adjacent


, NeItHeR nation


exigencies,


recirculatory


COLLECTIVE


monolithic nautical


interchange





Kitchen Sink Screwball Comedy



A recognized shell


equated to a Burgundy SNAIL


handspun whiskey rebellion:


WHO MUST


HAVE


KNOWN


THE


INTRIGUES


of former snowmen


as sadly deformed as


WOLVES?



Ah. Yes. As. Soon. As. All. That.



Xmas comes up never a


time in which art lacks


a source of glee.


Leeks. Cheeks.


Speaking in


voices hardly


transparent.





Vitriolic cosines


on teleprompter angelic


remote controls /


as funny as


a fruit CAKE


cavalier & just


as steadfast.





Once


stood


up


as


squished


.


A


game


of


pin


the


nose


on


the


dapper


DAN


impresario


.


Until then


stubborn as


a hopeless


romantic


the NOMAD splits


an ATOM in


all that


destructive


& ashen


puking.





All that lines can


resemble /


Still bored to stiffened


swimming /


Wires puking arbitrarily


into skulls /


Unlike in youthful un-


determination /


.
/


.
Brighter pigeons


prevail upon


pie in the sky


prancing masses


spin in parachute


advertisements


justly concerned


that falling might


mean the horror


show of civilization


in all its fabled


glories.




Eager!


Eager! Eager!


On the wall they


hang a star.


Eager!


Eager! Eager!


Racks of gummy


bears sing a song


or two or 3 or


MORE despite the


flulike symptom


engulfing these


FIELDS of


DRIPPING


nightingale


winglets.




As formless


as a


bat & as


graceful as


a glockenspiel.




no one


else has


heard the


march of


techno


disease. 

 

 

 

 

 

Joshua Martin is a Philadelphia based writer and filmmaker, who currently works in a library. He is a member of C22, an experimental writing collective. He is the author most recently of the books O! fragmented glories (Argotist Ebooks), Prismatic Fissures (C22 Press), and peeping sardine fumes (RANGER Press). He has had numerous pieces published in various journals. You can find links to his published work at joshuamartinwriting.blogspot.com