J. D. Nelson


demand a dream for the new time

a clean flea
cow earth daily

we found a nice painting of the countryside

               the stare from the deep

I went south to eat
good for the gullet

the sure serpent and the dream of the cracked antler
thinking about the tones in the trees

today is the sky harvest so bring your sacks
how long is a world away to get there tonight

this is the coloring page of the world
this green goes everywhere



hymn and fir

earth the river world
a visceral plow and upturned overtures all over the plains

show us the sun
dream into a cup if you can and we will analyze it

to make a real tree out of twigs and some fallen leaves
oh what’s the use well we have to try

little yes is the only key
replaying the tapes from the night of the asteroid

fright wallet and the growling coin
a little one with sharp teeth

santa platter was the earth meal I remember most
with the roast beef and that ghost beef

you were a good monster
until you changed into a newscaster



a quart of the quince

that could keep this working for another hundred years
that morning of the mr. t waterfall

a nice world of the sleeping ankles
corn was a new earth food when I tried it for the first time

luxurious lather is the dreamfoam
lake potion to make me more of a smiling beast

your balloonist status will come in handy when it comes to getting an appointment
in the bottom of the box is a crumb of the last donut and a grease stain for you to interpret

why isn’t there a clown diary on display like the book of kells

something like light
the forged frog

waterfall oink
a bag of funnels



the former sunlight code to reach the heavens using zilch

name: blank bee, I am starving
would you like the peanut butter quiz?

in the glow-in-the-dark era
when a fish comes to the door

blanket yogurt and the steptoe curriculum
that apple computer is a toaster, too

philip your bucket with weeds and branches



heck hog

morning the toot wilhelm
ghost chicken for the goose of days

good luck soap
a seldom-used machine

centipede realization
we can’t get that locking machine to weep

a lion was a bug sprout
                              not candle wax

the dumpster’s “yes” is a shining fox crouton



the summer wolves and the express

when I sit and eat the paper to stop that friend from pushing

the calm name of the wind
whiting up the bread was a new earth on a pole

               on the corner was a bull and he was a busy bull
well he had a meltdown

fool of the world walked up and ate the sun
               it was saucer night and he ate the moon too



the spider corn was creamed to make a wallet of the fur

with that charge of the donkey to forget the glass glow a green
xamera was a nick of the sports

one more of those dollar lambs
if you could glow with justice and that paper is the snout of the clay to stand

this way with eugene trike and that sand was a clean glass apple
to stomach past the friend of the charcoal to eat the banana glass

the pete marsh could be the dragon to know us in the glen of the world
chieftains of the window earth

the same flea with that floyd
we see it here to stand with those fresh plums of the boxes



baloney heart was the leader of the sour candles

you bear a beary now the classic log
wot, a button of the chance?

cheese is the murmur
shadow was lox a luck

one of the birds in the street
the james of the leather wig

could be the wolf of the leonard
the smile of the nothing rice

the boiling apple and the neck of the knee
to boil a new egg

was the bacon book taken?
the heaven of the coil

the law of the english hen
the gooden of the paw



this bubble of the florida clown with that dart of the boiling hand

garbage is the bank of a paper lion
the winning scrub of the florissant

your programme was the flint of my chile
to snarl a luther to wake in that way for the knife

a kitten in the lunchroom
a flea of the colonel

a spool of the earth
working floyd was the caramel of the powder

lego the ambrosia was a floral time of the folk
to seep like a seagull

listen to the drac of the fun pak
listen to the muffin of the bread



a hamredder, that leather of the tooth

when I was a freezing duck
that soap was the parent of the lawn

that bee was the stereo leather of the frost
the cinnamon from the fountain

the work of the world was a new orange julius
like cake from a spid’r

olf was like the day of the putter
the milk was a charm of the sport to lea

bear was a mare of the dungeon
the air after alta

would you like a pop code,
one dollar per beak?




J. D. Nelson (b. 1971) experiments with words in his subterranean laboratory. Visit www.MadVerse.com for more information and links to his published poems. Nelson lives in Colorado.
 
 
previous page     contents     next page