Sunday, March 19, 2017

flounce

all warning otherwise went out the window
looking for a sinner in flies
there was nothing in the daffodil
nothing in the eyes
just a torrent of empty song
and a beaver to sing with it
must resist it sounded wouldn'd
but I didn't
it jumped me
I went into the pantry and grabbed a wooden spoon
feeling rather beat up
the cookies went into oven
feeling baked

all city dogstreams go down center
where the dogs began to fly
out the noise indoors
the kings began to flounce
don't know what they're flouncing for
don't know what it means
it know it's not from fleece, flace, flounce
it's not Germanic
it's not a fluid ounce
it's not a doorway

don't move around impatiently to my annoyance
the flounce picked up its spatula and walked away
forgetting he was a wooden spoon
another wooden actor on a decked up stage
too early for laughter not enough for crying
get off stage!

okay I set the hybrid aside
not enough information for the sandwich
tmi you know tmi!
you squash that banquet right quick!
there's not enough juno in that snow!

yah well...you got me there
I was an elephant in a past life, now I'm a donkey's ass
are you subhuman if you don't care about politics
there's no I beg your pardon
that flounces the scene
except of the flouncy kind
you do the arithmetic!
time coach!

I wish you were ashaft already
I'd set you aside before
now my taffy is gone
traded for my choosy sugar
only a batchelor would know
drafting for more but not a beer cabinet
request the floor
must resist the door, but there it is

damn shoe fly again
thought I'd sent it to Costa Rica
instead it came back with a salmon
I didn't think there was any salmon there
I didn't ask

google is an oddstrument
its present tense is not gargle
right in front of me was a spade
I dug down
flounced about

denis streeter   3/18/17

Sunday, March 12, 2017

blasphemarium only kinder

sentences counter to why
shy in a conundrum way
wayward enough to cry
teetering on tocks
the spread is low the length is wide
doesn't explain who captured who
just a desk of the labyrinth kind
gesture to blow over snow
the rabbit besides
trackless the x resurrects the y
gallonteens the distance
beneath splinters
those lily white lizards of y
all bedroom sweat as noise
what the bears thought neutral
the knives thought wise
drifting in place
with the fork and spatula
waiting for a rooster rise
so wide you could follow him
behind dry buckets
thrown in the fire
the crayons melting
where the mitten cries
behind trowel doves
the trounces try
the moon center stage
worshipping acting cult
a streetcar named desire
a mesmerizing tailor
the clock fast forwards
it's nine not ten
or is it the other
the rocket clocks back
"there's no more snow your egos on fire!"
rest in that stream to impale
interpolates it's not wise
more believed in
that shotgun glass
receiving its marrow
upstage in laughter ducts
behind medicine counters
two bones chew in lab
there was no time for supper
only it's aftershock
spilled in the question y
labspeak in charlie board cry
reaching the distant bone
jester in twine
washing up for noon
the table sets arks on the counter
a wishing bone for tea
to elephant the room
labs for a doctor
washing for school
inside a drum.
the polar express
bisects each mind
splinters control acting blind
two thoughts in molecules
molecular devices
attracting encounter
watching the nose grab whys
honk its horn whilst passing by
it's up to the dressing
what's it addressing
thrown a curve in blithering blather
what the coat left behind...
missed what it said
watching the irony fly in circles
watching for dad
mending my window strawed in plaid
squalid on the counters
waiting for grads to fly
that censorless design
caught in the crack hole
chocolate by design
floors in catapaults decide
where the lens blinds
it's not an office affair
the lines are grinding
cicero declining
waiting by the counter
sadness unknown
opens the snow
petrified
the roads are freezing but not past cold
not what you pretended for
those rose of thorn
the Christ behind
squalid in the hole
between the eyes
it's creamier than I'd like
finding dead center
impound along the y
colder than spice hotter than try
in a cross-dressin design
placing scruples where the bottom dries
night disappears
defining
yesterday morning
meant to be kinder.

denis streeter   3/11/17