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


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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