Wednesday, May 20, 2009

poem: The Orator fell from the word

   I also write poems and this one has some relationship to the interplay of commodity fetishism, politics and pop art.   The poem is divided into one and two line stanzas but it is respaced by the post so that the two line stanzas are double spaced instead of single spaced.


daisies befall


 fingers like cut

I’ve met your fear and it is


stems

Jack with Marilyn Jack with Judith

 

five bullets for Fidel

Jackie with Ari

 

the last funeral is a profession

fear germinates a building

 

the emptiness of flowers

in a bedroom

 

the woman looks fishy

the woman looks stylish

 

Warhol’s silkscreen

America’s insolent fingers

 

the suicide fell from a tower

of  hushed voices

 

the press did not speak

the orator fell from the word

 

Vietnam did not end

Special Forces young as Jack


Warhol words

Hanoi with poisons

 

survivors of assassins

edit flowers


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