Lars Palm


Untitled Poem #1

going down or would
that be up around the
bend coating the road
with marbles & alarm
clocks singing merry
melodies pounding nails
into your forehead

that light in the
sky is not the second
coming maybe the
minute or the hour
or even the week

but & there's always
a but as well as a
butt though they
serve different
purposes or purport
to

too many bridges to
burn & rebuild only
to have doubts cast
about their futures
by an alcoholic irish
vampire who's simply
bored

at supper-time his
breakfast he puts a
plate of ropa vieja
before you

i'm eating old clothes?

for the love of jeezus

& this is not a lovesong

& probably not a
political one for if
it was it wouldn't be
very effective would it?

 
 
 
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