Thursday, December 10, 2015

My Love & I

Here is your church,
the one you threw us out of, my love and I--
with its pews like boxes
holding captive monkeys forbidden the fez.

Organ grinder, 
create a distraction while we rob, my love and I,
this financial institution with its tellers
become oracles inspired by vapors and pride.

On the beach, 
discarded gods half-heartedly deal tired goddesses--
they use their umbrellas for bicycle wheels,
spinning like starfish back to the sea.

My love and I,
we are dual queens in the card game of time,
clocks and mattress ticking
the only clouds we allow, fiats from the feathers of talking birds.

What does it mean,
you'll ask between mouthfuls
of the stew we serve from peat bog and nightmare--
what does it mean? It means-- go back to your church; die there.

Have chattered your benediction from the primate pulpit
while my love and I spend your money
with Cpl. Jesus in a sidecar
down some sunny, narrow street you'll never find.
__________

 

9 comments:

fae montane said...

Oh sweet Jesus. I can't even get past the shirt.

Mama Zen said...

"forbidden the fez." That just says it all for me.

Cloudia said...

FLO! So many gems here












Warm ALOHA,
ComfortSpiral

(\__/)
(='.'=)
(")_('')


Blogoratti said...

Delightful and very creative piece which I enjoyed reading. Well done, and warm greetings!

Sherry Blue Sky said...

I adore the tshirt! LOL. And cackled all the way through the poem AND the labels underneath. You are such a hoot. Your brain must be such a great place to hang out in.

Buddah Moskowitz said...

Oh to be loved with such madness and devotion! La la mosk

hedgewitch said...

I somehow just erased my entire long comment, because the brain and fingers are not up to par tonight--just was saying this is the best--the whole poem, the last three stanzas, especially, this:

'..we are dual queens in the card game of time,
clocks and mattress ticking
the only clouds we allow, fiats from the feathers of talking birds..."

Now *that* is poetry.

Sioux said...

I loved the shirt, the "forbidden fez" and "Cpl. Jesus in a sidecar."

Kerry O'Connor said...

I read this poem last night when my brain was on its last exhausted fizzle and thought it too beautiful for words.