Raymond Farr

A Cow in a Field Goes Mooo in My Ear

Arriving home wasted.
Twelve stepping my latest unrealized.

out of No Man’s Land.
As a cow in a field goes mooo in my ear.

a distant bell sounding like balling.

the nether touch of snow mocking me upstairs to answer the phone.
beating up. (what clown?!)

Yet clarity enough...

Looking really for my belt.

In this real tempo killing field.
I file vomit under V.

Keeping formality close.

She had one rule:

No dream canaries for gifts.

Or farts in begging hands.

& I broke it while dancing.

I wanted to move like weather.
Into her.

A lumpenmensch at critical mass of.
Scotch &.

Water beyond reason.

I am a.
Cohort to reason is a viable solution.

But I would have none of it!

Let’s say I have nothing to give but the stains on my walls.
Let’s say the clock in my stomach.

& approach Absolute Zero.

A fucking smiley-face sticker.
Stuck like a smudge.
On my liquor-blurred brow.

My ears shattered in hung-over trolleys.
Of freshly cut pine!

To smash!

I whimper aloud.

A sad lonely beagle.
Itching with mange.

In lieu of a loving white rabbit.
Poised in my jaw.
I’ll have a turd for my heart instead.

In the straw polls of love.
The strange scent of mackerel.

are Dutch Masters.

Of musical despair—
On my fingers.

The Cure is Disintegration.

revolving door.

Whose name is Phenomenon.

In my ten minute window.
I pack up my Jell-o.
& eat all my Snicker’s bars.

Or night falls feeling sour & callous.

Into invisible sleigh bells.

Of poisonous.

It wasn’t frightful.
It was brkn up.

Me of a rib cage.

With Deputy Scowl on prowl like an owl.
I sing out of tune on the ropes of a binge.

On fire.
By skeleton police dog.

I am working so hard.

I am chanting out ozone.
To keep memory alive.

A glimmer of tin foil cap.
Protects my fossilized brain matter.
Grown wickedly crooked.
I keep score with a match book.

In the raw thaw of hind sight.
I am sentenced (by whom?)
To eternal pratfalls.

A dunce it seems.
In some banana skin mine field.

The lighter of matches.
Alone in slo-mo.

A light bulb bare & m issing a filament.

I am flippant.
Against LOVE.

In the grip of my poverty.

I eat what the insolent dogs eat.

My eggs eaten runny.

With dead eyes.
In the butter now.

My center.
Out of focus.

Takes heart.
From a stag.

Its shape.
Blind & obnoxious.

Whose full silver face.
I indulge like a nightmare.

Of stark winter tears.
Blue autumn stars.

Whose daddy sold Saturns.
Like crazy.
Every Tuesday.

Raymond Farr lives in Ocala, FL. His work was selected for inclusion in the First Sidebrow Anthology. He has published: two free ebooks, Two Texts (Chalk Editions 2010) and chainge (Chalk Editions 2011), and seven books of poetry in print: Rien Ici, big strange wall, DRUNKER/ holding ember, Starched, Variably Distorted Lad, and There Is Something Missing in the Whole Transaction between Us, which are available at Blue & Yellow Dog Book Shop, and Ecstatic/.of facts (Otoliths Books 2011). His chap book, Two Hats Appear When Applauded, is available free at www.dusie.org. A third ebook, Writing What For? across the Mourning Sky is slated for publication by Argotist Ebooks. Raymond is editor of Blue & Yellow Dog.
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