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PROFANATION OF THE HOST
let me flip the Rolodex
file
ah here it is
the name you want
oh I assure you it is
no you have my name it
is
Hospodar Synamond believe me
here it is written down
in the black and white
look here OK OK
don't worry about it
I tell you this because
you ask it of me
what is this true blue
business if it isn't true
and blue and there is
the
whole matter of business
the free interchange of
goods
services and ideas
oh yes of course I know
I knew already it is
for what is already it is
definitely true and round
all round been around
can't deny so it's true
and the sky is blue so
there
what is and was and will be
a good deal how about that
if you ask him say the
merchant
sent you there to him
say to him I would
plant the wheat
fields with tares entire to
uproot the tainted shock
you're welcome and I
thank you
no you know I lock up myself
before I go is no better way
I say you know the
theater
over by down where that's the one
the revues they do there who who
thought of such a thing I'm
sure I never do what I mean
to say I laughed down the boulevard
fit to burst me breeches
it was so very funny in that way oh
SPAZ ATTACK
the folio splutters as
it's very hurled
out the window into the Piazza
you can read the sound as it flies
like the oracle at Dodona
it's always the same
whatever the source
of the wind or the window or the tome
and paving stones in various patterns
and townhomes receiving the echo again
and throne sustained by
the oracle
of the fluttery volume making its arc
in light and shade over the design
on the cobblestones where it lands betimes
SWEEP OF THE ATOLL
dings & pings I called
it as the craft
zinged & winged around the Micronesian play-palace
as my ensign says it had called for a
bomb strike but we were sent in on the double
to scan the joint for the evil buggers a nightjar
sounds like what I heard and then a shrieking
no a screeching yes a screechy-owl it might have been
a hooty-owl no for sure a nightjar then a screech owl
that was no information to carry back to my base
so I figured out what my code was supposed to be
you see the nightjar was my friend of the opposite number
alerting me to his presence
inadvertently I had to think suppose it were me
and you cruising around in this sweeper
would I tell you to think vox populi vox
dei know this many times I thanked your many times blessed
stars it wasn't you and then the screeching Lord
that was the signal for the many attacks
but you have read my report of which this is an addendum
Christopher Mulrooney is the author of notebook and sheaves. His
work has appeared in The East Village, Perihelion, Wazee Journal, The
King's English, Spillway Review, Turbula, Cordite, Stylus Poetry Journal,
and Tiger. |