Hey, Pistolero
by Bill Yarrow
I'm complex. You're complex. We're all complex.
Who gives a shit? Man's fallen and he can't get up.
I consulted Jacques the Atheist for advice: he told
me to beat it. "But I lack the proper stigma!" I cried.
Once a month, I volunteer at the dressage parlor.
On Tuesdays, I play pinochle with the son of the Holy Ghost.
Every material loss is a gain for the State.
Today is the world's birthday: gag gifts only.
Pilate rewashes his left hand, i.e. confidence abandoning
optimism, or One More Chance at Capsizing Fate.
I was having lunch with Anna the Ma who said, "This year
we're hoping Thanksgiving will be more Purgatory than Hell."
The trees are wounded. The water warms
to their approach. Summer is a cumin seed.
I tiptoed into the heart's parlor and moved the switch to off.
Can you hear it? That's your insouciance speaking.
The bats have returned to East Saint Louis.
Otherwise, it's all just wax.
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Author's Note
This poem was published in SalonZine and appears in "Critique of Pure Dreaming" (free download at academia.edu ).
I like this a lot, especially the wedging open of language toward the surreal, and the humor that bursts through the openings, the absurdities.
*
Thank you, David and Jenny!
Oh, this is lively, intriguing, something one could read again and again and enjoy! I love your economy. It inspires trust in a reader.
"I'm complex. You're complex. We're all complex.
Who gives a shit? Man's fallen and he can't get up."
Great, great opening lines, Bill, and they would be my favorite lines here if not for the closing couplet. *
"Brisk, wry, and exuberant lines and couplets", says this commenter who has never even seen pinochle or bezique played. Good work.
Thanks, Dianne, Sam and Edward, for your comments!
"I tiptoed into the heart's parlor and moved the switch to off."
Brilliant and better with each read.
Ah, complexity! *
Nice work, Bill *
The trees are wounded. The water warms
to their approach. Summer is a cumin seed.
Thank you, Darryl, Beate, and Fos!
*, Bill. I love this phrasing: "One More Chance at Capsizing Fate." Remarkable poetry.
Hi, David! Thank you for your comment!