Overread at the Counter: Verble Reads His Poem

It's not often I write poetry, mostly I prefer to read it, but this one just came to me today . . . here toes:

Verble Searches the Internet

 

I am not

interesting in

meeting other

singles in my area

or seeing who

searched for me

or in losing weight

or in earning

$1700 a week from
home

or in seeing

how these people

bought a house

in Martha’s Vineyard

by creating their own

online start-up, I

only got on here

to look up

the lyrics to a

song I have half-

forgotten from

1972.

 

Overheard at Table 4: Jericho Brown "Another Elegy"

Another Elegy

by Jericho Brown

 

To believe in God is to love
What none can see. Let a lover go,

Let him walk out with the good
Spoons or die

Without a signature, and so much
Remains for scrubbing, for a polish

Cleaner than devotion. Tonight,
God is one spot, and you,

You must be one blind nun. You
Wipe, you rub, but love won't move.

 

(c) 2013 by Jericho Brown.   brought over from The Academy of American Poets "Poem-of-the-Day"

Overheard at Table 3: Dorothy Parker "The Passionate Freudian to His Love"

The Passionate Freudian to His Love
by Dorothy Parker
Only name the day, and we'll fly away In the face of old traditions, To a sheltered spot, by the world forgot, Where we'll park our inhibitions. Come and gaze in eyes where the lovelight lies As it psychoanalyzes, And when once you glean what your fantasies mean Life will hold no more surprises. When you've told your love what you're thinking of Things will be much more informal; Through a sunlit land we'll go hand-in-hand, Drifting gently back to normal. While the pale moon gleams, we will dream sweet dreams, And I'll win your admiration, For it's only fair to admit I'm there With a mean interpretation. In the sunrise glow we will whisper low Of the scenes our dreams have painted, And when you're advised what they symbolized We'll begin to feel acquainted. So we'll gaily float in a slumber boat Where subconscious waves dash wildly; In the stars' soft light, we will say good-night— And “good-night!” will put it mildly. Our desires shall be from repressions free— As it's only right to treat them. To your ego's whims I will sing sweet hymns, And ad libido repeat them. With your hand in mine, idly we'll recline Amid bowers of neuroses, While the sun seeks rest in the great red west We will sit and match psychoses. So come dwell a while on that distant isle In the brilliant tropic weather; Where a Freud in need is a Freud indeed, We'll always be Jung together.

Overheard at Table Two: George Harrison "Electronic Sound"

Oh, man you have got to hear this album I just found on YouTube - proving once again that even when you think you know everything about a band, they can still surprise you!   This was like, in 1969, and totally blows my mind . . . George Harrison put out an electronica album!

Yeah, right.

No seriously, take a listen.   Here, look . . . .

 

 

 

 

 

Says in the comments he ripped the guy off.

 

Well, you gotta give genius it's due!  It's still incredible!

 

I dunno, sounds like jibberjabber to me.

 

You say jibberjabber, I say brilliance.  Potayto potahto!

 

 

 

 

 

 

Overheard at Booth 5: American Culture

"Please excuse me if I can't get this off my mind, but I just gotta tellya:

"We live in a society in which the biggest hit shows include: a high-school chemistry teacher turned meth dealer, a gun-running drug running biker gang, a single mom who sells marijuana for a living, a family in which every single member is addicted to a different drug, a high school teacher who sleeps with everything with a double X chromosome, and yet we as Christians successfully took off the air a show about a Muslim family trying to integrate into American culture.  

"It just blows my mind."

Overread at the Counter: MR's "A Triad"

MR reels back a little in the stool and says, "Thissun's a one what waz done awhile back, summat like 2008 or somewheres about.   real story too.   Not mine, tho'  - but real."

A Triad

1. Hotel Pillows

The electric got cut off yesterday afternoon,

and it was still 96 degrees after the sun went down,
so we packed up the kids and stayed at a hotel,

stole some of the pillows when we left the next morning.

 

2. Procedure Wednesday Morning

Had a procedure the next morning,

called my work to tell them that
it was done at 11, but I wouldn’t be coming in til one –

had some friends in the car and we were gonna

drive around, do some errands,

My work said it’d be leave without pay,

that’s alright.

 

3. Workman’s Comp Blues

The Judge wouldn’t sign off on my husband’s workman’ comp check

until he goes down to the Capital to see some doctor,
but he can’t drive ‘cuz an hour and a half of drivin’ hurts his back,

my work doesn’t really want me to take another day off,

guess I’ll just have to call in sick that day.

MR says "I got this one in a little collection  called 'The Subtle Difference Between Contingent and Contiguous' - just sent it off to a competition - the whole thing.  Maybe if I get an honorable mention I kin score a free frappé around here!"

Overread at the Counter: Charles Bukowski "Back to the Machine Gun"

back to the machine gun

I awaken about noon and go out to get the mail
in my old torn bathrobe.
I'm hung over
hair down in my eyes
barefoot
gingerly walking on the small sharp rocks
in my path
still afraid of pain behind my four-day beard.

the young housewife next door shakes a rug
out of her window and sees me:
"hello, Hank!"

god damn! it's almost like being shot in the ass
with a .22

"hello," I say
gathering up my Visa card bill, my Pennysaver coupons,
a Dept. of Water and Power past-due notice,
a letter from the mortgage people
plus a demand from the Weed Abatement Department
giving me 30 days to clean up my act.

I mince back again over the small sharp rocks
thinking, maybe I'd better write something tonight,
they all seem
to be closing in.

there's only one way to handle those motherfuckers.

the night harness races will have to wait.

Charles Bukowski