letters to papa

the patterns were enough to snow
but i didn't know
which way the castle run
or why it was dying
i didn't ask any questions
just lay down in the snow
preceded drying
applesauce and the moon
some peanut butter off chord
dust from the mantle in stone
crossed eyes with a t
nothing to do with me
the travel's over
the driving done
whirlwinds but that's your shelter
wait until it's done
fine tune your comb
its' needle in a haystack
cross the cushions
cream the wine
there's someone to show you
make it up.  you'll get by
but follow carefully
then juice the spinner
testing for gold, expecting silver
nowhere to go
your time is up
down in the well
go get some flowers
it's cool, they're expressionless
first it was pie then the moon
couldn't make a choice
the lesson wasn't frivel
one got caught
the other let off with a warning

denis streeter    3/22/18

how it's made

the bathroom door hides mirrors
deep in snow unkind
lakes like snowmen steeples
hot on top, slow below
even the showers were null
dressing inside the box
their gravity clear
short between sentences
0 to 20 the court ordered
but it was wrong
shadows grew in ugly faces
filling in fire
perhaps the stores were dying
they didn't have much, the hives were gone 
centuries slide, school dies recovers
sentences without commas trout
flauting their flaut and flaunting about
discovery a poor trainer
didn't know better
sentences snore without meaning
travelling in pairs where pathos hide
groans the dinner bell someone phones
someone answers.  it got the job done
it wasn't poetic, the neighbors know
it's soft as curtains swallowing fleas
sorting vegetables in short white sleeves
ketchup flows
sand showing ears in opening doors
close
you can lock up the hammer fly the flea
the bathrooms wise
leaking what's left behind
watering each hose tight
close when the talking begins
dissolving fixtures icing hot 
turn the corner you're one behind
more waiting in your cup
drowning in sorrow the hammer fly flea
left the doors open
it's time to go
let them out
the hemmings free

denis streeter   3/1/18

what are the reasons

in the beginning there was chaos
it was without form and void
and then there was eden
and then there was chaos
and then there was
that theory that revolutions are
figments of our mind
useless machinations
filled with telephone poles in drifting skies
all the laughter was true
but it was meant to confuse
dwindling between safe and catastrophic
a dingle here a dingle there and the faith bump rises
but what kind of faith
is it based on fear, a sense of being threatened by others
all this meant to confuse and cloud judgment
and in the confusion you follow like minded leaders
ready to prop up your beliefs
but what if they need to be sanded
they're not quite your own
what is liberal and conservative
what is all of us
we'll never learn to understand another person's situation
it's much too complex
but there's empathy.  you got to try to understand something
where's the compassion
i don't know the way, but i stumble and try
i guess this lent i want to give up complacency
it's easy to give up pot and television
it's hard to get involved
with some sort of political action
it seems like gun violence would be a good place to start...
in middle school there was a guy who threatened to blow my brains out
each day during recess
i ignored it, gave a nervous laugh, and didn't respond
i always thought
that since i didn't react
he lost interest
but then there was my dad
my mentally ill dad
crossed the border bought a gun
who did succeed in blowing his brains out
so i guess i do know something about gun violence
at some point in my 20's
i shifted from being republican to democrat
the reasons don't matter right now
when mother died, my sister and i
made a decision to give up our family guns
we sold them all
about 10 guns
only 3 of them worked
gun practice had lost my interest
hunting was never an interest
and we sold
an entire briefcase of ammunition
estate sale gave us $1,000
and now
i am glad it is gone
no amount of ancestral heritage
would want me to continue with that baggage
and now
it's been one school tragedy after another
sometimes it hits home

denis streeter   2/25/18

the behoovers

all the poltry spotted hens
get back in line again
the traffic light out, the guns were in
gums break out in sage brush fire
all the drafts were burnt
the soiled dressing filed
the bone chipped preachers
preschool etched hives
it didn't matter how it was found
it was always better by the pound
the doctors hadn't figured
the dioxin were yoked
arrived by graveled snow
pulled by rabid rabbi
all the odd sniffs left
it wasn't beyond their boundaries
just beyond their know
it behooves them
gets up the roar and snows them in
ahem ahah amen amen
and the justice sword scours brushes
meant to beat the paddywacks
but the trombone got loose
left town with the moose
or was it the flutes and saucers
either way it shelved approval
first of two dope offerings
one at school, one at altar
but the hemming was too fine
nothing could be dressed up like that
put Solomon in a stitch
romans in a halter
the big cheese stepped down
all those golden steps
laying eggs ent easy
and the communists tell you why
lay one posy in a row, jump around, flack a boot
then the boss lays his finger on the rosary
but it's already been roasted
the pot caught the lid
smokin'
and it was downhill from here
once the judgment got afloating

denis streeter  2/11/18

storybook

the sordid solutions worked into faces
one direction to the next
working tunnels to justice
the jury is out
comatose a spell
right hand directed what left didn't know
right left unwrong
that itchy thumb
hitching a ride to the sun
wandering pictures of salads wined
it wasn't always that way
when juice spilled and picked up manners
other times windows shattered
too much construction
the baths disturbed the wrenches
the wrens disturbed the verbs
all that destruction worked into vowels
dampening towels
shores laughing to keep clam
the wilderness opened that day
officers keeping tabs
when the lightning bolt came
too much wine to succor
cannonballs
sutures the drink
in line for another
cannonballed
where shores swap letters to pictures
listening to irons
littering highways in vowels
burdening busloads of towels
snowshoes their depth
cannonball specs
horizon travels higher
in shadows a burden of war
testing shots with swings
crossbow wins
lacking understanding
that willful swing
answers war with sleeves
up to knees swiping pictures
danders to dandelion
all that blows is neutral
don't know where it stands
the mud is messy
behind shelters searching
all the pieces went black
looking for a time that itsint
but better
the officers bent way
their toothpicks are wrong
their laughter non
but made for strong sutures
setting up wind for supplies
the flies flew longer
watching wind for clues
there were pieces in the shine
i picked them up and cradled them home
they needed yearning
it was before the world began
i needed lessons

denis streeter  2/4/18

stick to the shadows

letters splay off another
one sound to the next
water cold thumb warm
on off
tables turn oceans wash
upside down the water ride
opening hills through dungeoness shadows
horrors self contained
on the main
water valves release their outlet
owls steam and stew, oysters crackle
the first remains open, the second closed
succulent sticks pliant doors
housing as hours esplined
days drew weeks, months to years
but that was another story
for you it was all I could do
the living retractable
all the contingencies grew through doors
underground vines posing as lilies
morning glory doesn't understand subvergence
letters draw their consonant fall
one page turns to next
floors fall into place
splinters of yesterdays
southward door opens and close
hidden paths spread their roots
malignant yet benign
that rise and fall
sneaks in
falls
holds everything up

denis streeter   1/28/18

blunderbuss

shot between two shadows
the streams come rolling in
bent out of control and steeple chased
chastened out of wool and possum apostles
the bed wigs wool worn
too long for straps
fields of snow floored their go
beastly but undermined poe
watching trees snowboard and pitch bark
it wasn't a matter of elbows
they've been discussed before
it was a matter of bones
how they rise and fall
how they get their equipment done
the depressed quibble searching for sense
they don't really care for life doesn't give any
just a screwed up lank at a lass for lotr
farms scramble vegetables searching for eggs
nothing but an unsuccessful sperm count
ok for a whale not for a male
word emotions
the temperature freezes overnight
not enough to get the willies
the tablets are done and don't want to be taken
wise in the front, dumb in the back
the creator don't give a shit and the wise don't mind
pretend they know better
isosceles gone
going one flavor to the next
pretending ent nice
it's how to survive in a shithole
in the coming dawn when it's just words
those who say don't be a big baby
the sun goes down and the moon farts
smells in your dreams.  you have no castle
hope destroys the extinct
or am i an oxymoron
who doesn't understand words
doesn't apostrophize the lower case
just uses them willy nilly
it's not poetry
poetry parses its words
doesn't use trite sayings
shows don't tells
but the fruitcake is showing
there is no nose
castration no fun
where's the holiday
there is none
hope goes out the window
watch those toes
they're frostbitten
get inside
i'll help you with the ax

denis streeter   1/18/18