Jeff Bagato

Contract Expiry

                  If she didn’t have an
                              audience she wouldn’t talk
                     so loud, she wouldn’t
                                    sit so close, her hand
                               gestures would have 
                        no meaning:

                             Hey dude, I started
               powerwalking as I passed
                                      your house; I think I had 
                         like 7 beers in 3 hours—

                               Andy Jackson tips
                                       his hat;
                        a squirrel carries grass
                                              to a knothole high
                                   in the sycamore above

                            one phone passing another
                   phone in the park

                                  the leaves are tiny &
                new on the tree, tulips
                         kiss the sky in perfect
                   rows, pink blossoms
                                    sprinkle the ground,
                                                 a message stippled
                                          in a universe 

A Blind Dog Leading the Blind

                                    a blind dog leading
             the blind makes everybody
                          happy by not getting
                                          anywhere fast;

                 with cigar in hand 
                                           & a ho 
                                  ho ho
                       he can flame up a controlled burn
                                         in the gulf
                            of oil, a conflagration
             making hell of a beach,
                                 and heaven the 
                      yard next door to the BBQ
                                          with smoke akimbo, thick 
                            & black & 
                                      in your face

                             who needs trees 
                   when a starling 
                                          will do, 
                               pulped down
                                             & sawdusted 
                       as a medium for shiitake mushrooms,
             wings spread for the 
                             printing o’ the declaration
                     (of independence),
                                                   as I
        aspire to be independent
                                 of everything, indie &
                                       & upside

Jeff Bagato a writer, musician and street artist living near Washington, DC. Some of his poetry has appeared in Exquisite Corpse, Chiron Review, Shattered Wig Review, and local journals. He has published three books of poetry, And the Trillions, Spells of Coming Day, and Latest Headlines, and several novels, including The Toothpick Fairy and Computing Angels. He has recently started blogging about his writing and publishing at http://jeffbagato.wordpress.com.
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