Raymond Farr
Raymond Farr is author of numerous books in print, including Ecstatic/.of facts (Otoliths 2011) as well as Starched, Rien Ici, & Writing What For? across the Mourning Sky. His latest book Poetry in the Age of Zero Grav, from which these poems are taken, is due out in 2014. He is editor of the experimental poetry zine Blue & Yellow Dog.
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In Poems Causing Happiness Time is glib—a mixed up kid pounding on doors. His moment shrinking in the sun. In poems causing happiness we do not give up! Nor do we surrender! A rueful existence suspends belief. I want to thank the state. Not like a madman. But like a murmuring cyclone spieling about cities. Like Czech words in fast heads We drive round & round the bistro Looking for a space— Our human endeavors get blurred to extinction. Jones of the Bonfire of the Inanities Yr music is charmed somehow Deep in the forests of the night of the iguana So you bathe & stay in Steeping tea in a jar Faking each passage Each edit gaunt at the weird helm As yr language self cleans But if You open yr fridge hoping for melon or cheese cake Yr voice makes a picture Yr poems seem to mock Hangs braided up The painted conifer But you can’t figure out why Lassie comes home Only when it’s scripted & we all have a good cry over poor Timmy The Discovery of Helium Ordering take out From orbit She wrote letters To Khrushchev & to Kennedy Referencing The space race The monkeys Were lab rats I guess she wore Culottes The last thing I wanted Was her blank face In my hot cup Of Ramen— A UFO zigzagging In the strange Balloons Of her eyes— So I spoke up I felt something Yellow Move gently across I just took Her hand The music She downloaded Imprinted Like a puppy Superimposed On frozen Laughing men Nothing Seemed Stranger The Gluten Free Woman of Suburbia Somewhere near Apache Road The wilderness Just ends— A cloud of dust Menial as a frown & suburbia is born It splits itself open Like a muscular pod Sometimes The gluten free woman Thinks she’s Joan Jet & shows up drunk Only to find The Ramones Licking Fire from Our Fingers This wishing the iamb Back into vogue Is the noise of a dead man Picking fruit in a blizzard As line by line Our orchards burn down & exit each page We imitate the succubus Licking fire from our fingers But whose peaches are these peaches Spilling out chaotically tonight All over the Alewife Brook Parkway? The good luck has been edited All out of them— Snow buries this business Of misfortune
Raymond Farr is author of numerous books in print, including Ecstatic/.of facts (Otoliths 2011) as well as Starched, Rien Ici, & Writing What For? across the Mourning Sky. His latest book Poetry in the Age of Zero Grav, from which these poems are taken, is due out in 2014. He is editor of the experimental poetry zine Blue & Yellow Dog.
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