2 imitations

by chuck leary

arctic light blues paul bunyan would have loved this silver eternity … the rubbing of the wings of bodhisattva flies ( flies are the supreme bodhisattvas) in the purple twilight of pocahontas and cabeza de vaca thumbing rides on brooklyn bridges of li po enlightenment over rainbows of rheingold beer bottles as the spiders of nothingness crawl through the beard of john greenleaf whittier passed out on the sidewalk of heaven and the bing bong bix beiderbecke ping pong canaries of gertrude stein answer the burger king prayers of tao ch’ien in the thirteenth enlightenment or maybe the 14th arrondissement where edith piaf devours a smiling croissant under the disapproving gaze of madame butterfly who missed the last train to istanbul or heaven (call back later)

a real poem the insolent embolisms of the baroque are patiently encapsulated in the querulous cornices of a watercolored zeitgeist and the abandoned ashes of a forgotten auto-da-fe... boo! boo ! fuck that weak shit! let's have some real poetry! attenuated bilaterally in the dolorous fortuitousness of the moment... dolorous is right, asshole! get him out of there! boo! booooooo!! all right, how about this it's three in the morning and i've finished my pint of wine and i'm taking a shit behind safeway and it's hard, it's hard but i'm almost there and suddenly a car drives down the street in front of the parking lot and stops a cop car a cop gets out i shuffle back into the shadows with a stab in my guts ohhhhhhh! it moved back in a little and the cop strides across the parking lot it's a lady cop with something in her hand and i try to move sidewise like a crab with my pants around my ankles and the hard turd stuck halfway out my ass and she hits me full in the face with her flashlight and she says "this is it, big boy - the end of the line"