Poems for August 16
August 16, 2012 § Leave a comment
WE ARE MADE UP OF SMALLER VERSIONS OF OURSELVES STACKED UP ON TOP OF THE SMALLER VERSIONS OF OURSELVES’ SHOULDERS LIKE A HUMAN LADDER WEARING A TRENCHCOAT SO THAT WE LOOK LIKE JUST “ONE NORMAL-SIZED PERSON COMING THROUGH HERE, NO REASON TO GET SUSPICIOUS”
Whenever you were not going in from
the cold, you were gloveless.
SAPPHIRE: You had little hands
THE BUTCHER: And a sapphire
THE CHILDREN: And a butcher
THE MOTHERS: Give us our children.
In the spaceship, they were increasing
the parameter of experience
slowly. Back down, children.
THE LITTLE HANDS: Where are the little gloves?
THE LITTLE TRENCHCOATS: Are we alone?
THE MILES: We better stop.
I like that song that goes:
God only knows what I’d be without you.
GOD REMEMBERS THE NINETIES
Everybody has been hanging around here
ANITA: I stubbed my toe on the ottoman.
JEAN-BERTRAND: I touched myself in the eye.
A LAMP: If there is some music, there is a room.
WIKIPEDIA: Some people are listening to “The Dolphin’s Cry.”
I cannot think of anything sadder
than your parents’ clothes in a suitcase —
besides the mass production of spoons.
DOLLY (THE SHEEP): If the world had a face, I’d spit on it.
LOVE (THE SHEEP): I’m famous for being famous.
THE CARNIES: Philosophy can be a means.
of exploring joy and its intricacies.
There is a wooden bird that drinks water.
-Paul Legault, from The Other Poems (Fence Books, 2011)