Steve Dalachinsky & Jim Leftwich

where acht(o)ung(e)ing is the norm

everyday I believe
             in enough silence
   to mutate the
       arguments in need
of deeds & facts
   but indeed it is words that count
      despite what is said & the good sam-
aritan focuses on the front of trees not their tops
             on the fountains at their feet
   and not on the swords
          in the weeds
where the same plaid blood is flayed
     at the site of cropped knees
           & puritan curses
where power begets power & the powerful
   are full of powder where prowess is prevalent 
      & acht(o)ung(e)ing is the norm where the 
   powerful wear egrets to war there is valet 
parking west of the pro shop & the black widow 
       spiders are full of corn their wings hung 
             on the storm like facts
their facts hung like wings on the totems of
    disheveled  angels... 

july 2019



go go guys run rampant

rampant 
buffaloes everywhere
   eating other folks'
      hay
so where's the garlic end
& the killer begin??? where
             does the poem go
   from everywhere it is??
ant ramps? low buffers?
         smothering
     the beaten way?
where do the filters begin?
    who infiltrated the greenhouse?
      why were there ants in the cocktails?
             tales of untold miseries?
where will it go from (w)here?
   every house of cards a treatment 
           plant. snails in the alarm 
      clocks, ranting air. like a whale
folded into a mini-series. here we go 
        here to go the go to guys 
                        are here.

july 2019



postage stamps cut in half

the news is of nudes defending
       a staircase the Escalante bears
  listening with their sandstone
     ears even the backs of postage 
       stamps site this   
         escalators to heaven
           backstagepasses to hades
waging ghosts for the flacks
           of the seven fears 
       to bite the stumps
   or rumps leaving 
the calibrated shades
   to the asses center-stage
       within the amphi-theater 
          of argument

july 2019



'crat demo lish  

2 + 2 does not equal rights
      4 more gin & rummies & we'll 
all be on the street 
    eliminate the middle person &
yer left with the muddle prism
    in the middle of the night
      when the quail = the qualia &
          the gumshoes grin
             like immoral deathforks
   3 + 3 does not mean eyes snake
             6 more ways to skin a 'crat
demo lish un done by too much proof reading
     quaaludes used to be where it's alleviation
make my eyes shine like dusty diamonds
     like the sounds of demons debating bats
               brickbats & batshit
         the spoof is in the breading
     we're still levitating the pentagon
         with cracked anti- bodies
           hardcore universals
              tragic rest stops and 
         antiquated pedestrians
just so that 1 x 1 can stay a constant.

august 2019



a pencil & a good deck of cards 

red luggage arrives in the
     extended language we
  present at best to
    policies of control
       or was it a pest in the pants
            is worth 6+6 no more?
   a value than detach here
in the fire-ants nest
       where the score is
           always 5 = 6
the price of a patch of glue
   a pencil & a good deck of cards
        where 5'll get ya 99 plus
   a midnight ride
in the switching-yard
  when i'll bet the whole pot
    on that one means blackjack's
     just a figure of breach & a hole in yer
       blintzes is more than it deems
 
august 2019



the devil's tuxedo  

regards known
transcendent eraser bond
what the maladjusted millennial 
sought a fortnight plus toil =
   trubble sown in the 
boneyard beyond an easier 
     sentience a mile 
         of nails plus salad & 
    wheat foiled by the midnight 
naught burger well worth it without
  deluxe thrown in like unsympathetic music 
      not realizing its own potential
the width of doubt is north of hell
      the music is sick
      like a symphony in the attic
dawn is dressed in the devil's tuxedo
    the onions browned without love
       the fries dry as the meat is
        medium well might as well have been
well done as done as the check that eventually 
            arrived at the wrong address
a day late and a dollar short 
   & there yesterday's menu sat crumpled 
        inside a stale 1/2 eaten bun.

august 2019



jelly fucking donuts
 
capped off expensive 
   coffee exotic bean/heads
      the works within the works
       cold jelly donuts broken
   sieve-boating off the coast
of pie island with their esoteric
  feet and their breaded genes
     spoken in a glut of feathers
         & peanuts pea nuts PEE nutz
   weather change sugar factory 
      dominoes a game for sweet / tooth
        money grubbers alalalalcchhoohoo choo
alachoo & pie crusts PIE crusts pie
     CRUSTS torrid facts garfish & surcharge
          theremin wheatsooth sweating forks
      in the name of the nosedome
chew boo do the few new true 
   jitterbugs & climate change
      easy pass & loud & clear
situation even keep & life dear life
   has a way of being unpredictable
     corny & urgent
           climate-related 
                  DEATHS
           and money-related 
                  DEATHS  
           & gun-related
                  DEATHS  
           and hate-related
                  DEATHS
& hamburger related deaths
     & i'll have mine with ketchup.
 
august 2019



the tragedy of comedy

great comedy is guerrilla warfare good comedy 
is egotistical masturbation mediocre comedy is
insufferable sadism and bad comedy is pitiful
masochism i hate comedy but sometimes the routine
works other times just a bunch of jerks - i like french 
comedy english comedy the marx bros. jonathan winters
lord buckley a few others dark comedy hair tonic
carrot juice i like banana peels banana peels with hats
banana peels with hats and ladders hats and ladders
and tragicomic couples dancing along twilit sidewalks
towards the sea ropes and bladders & all that matters
& mad flatterers and filtration systems battened
hatches matchbook poems the holy modal rounders
coping mechanisms unfiltered camels all orders
of badass plodders plotters & mad flatteners &
lines of punch & all bad jokes & frivolous blokes
with top hats i like chaplin keaton & laurel & hardy
& lou costello & a few other fellows but where are the
women no mention of them you'd think all comedians
were only men i love lucy & gracie & a pup name boo
& if yas don't watch out i might love YOU

august 2019



Cowboys
 
the cowboys are after the herd
not to round em up but to 
brand em with their AKA's 
a clan of misbegotten skin tones
wrapped in hoods not hoodies 
proclaiming their territorial right
the cowboys are after the words
not to sound them out but to
grind them into their aches
a gland or forgotten shin bones
draped in moods and duties
reclaiming the torrential night
the cowboys are after the gold
not to try to spend but to have it 
on their eyes after the sheriff guns em
down the cowboys know their fight
is the good fight of might the tortured fight
of SIGHT as short as it may be
in the long & lonely smite
the cowboys are in the fold
gritting and bending they heave
their eyes after the tariff gums
of dawn you know how the cowboys are
they bite their kites and drink bud lite
they sleight ash snort and maybe
get along dogs for a boneless mile
but best of all they wrangle genes
     horse around & remove their spurs
        saddle sore & weary.
 
august 2019



skewed as a clock  

drive closer to the trees walk through 
       the sound the straight
           street to go is impossible and
slow sure as rock steady as a chewed
 finger pick ages have passed 
   & before the sun sets we are
out for a walk skewed as a clock and
     pure as the snow pages & pages
         have gassed past and linger
   which is as close as it gets
to talking about the score 

august 2019



the chewiest steak i ever et
 
this note
is legal tender
this tender heart is 
in debt both public &
private / this is instant 
     take not this
  bent egg or 
galloping hiss 
    in the undertense
       a rubric apart 
  a web of broth 
to navigate through
   this is tough love tough meat
      this is the rear end of the arse
         as far back as one can go
ough ough ough ough ough ough
                  bough love
                  cough love
                  dough love
                  enough love
                  furlough love
                  rough love
                  trough love
ough ough ough ough ough ough
in the business end of a hearse
   bought the narrows & fraught with glomp.

august 2019

Steve Dalachinsky sadly passed away in September 2019.
 
 
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