by Darryl Price
and watched you grinning
from your opulent spinning
cages and although you
were never less than
always remarkably perfumed, to
appeal I'm guessing to
the sniffing about masses,
to me they've simply,
carelessly, shrunk your body
to fit inside their
paper windows like smooth and jumbled
beans in a slowly shining off the window jar.
They're quite barbaric like
that. But the wild
instantaneous perfection that remains
on display is your
presence alone. Like a simple
shooting star in the
sky, it never fails. Because
it belongs right out
there being miraculous where
it's at and easily
gives its own proof
to the jaundiced jury
at hand without the
slightest hesitation or even
play trying. See? Already
you've stepped foot in
my secret heart and
I'm a million more
miles away from feeding
you anything fresh having
to do with this
kind of rubber life.
Sure I'd like to
kiss your fur and
maybe trust your mouth
to mine. But honestly
is that all we
can hope to glean
from this kind of
modest eye contact during
these our latest and
greatest parade of days?
I accept those cold sweet
terms, but lay out
the poem first in
a solid, plump protest--
like an unknown doormat in the road
makes the whole world into a sudden swollen pothole . So watch your step.
Bonus material:
People Love Their Machines Now
more than they love each other. I want to know
where the real fun is in that. Yeah you get
to sit in a room all by yourself and push every button.
Yeah you get to control everything. But when it's all
over will you get that stolen kiss?Will you recognize anyone's soft
lovely silhouette anymore? Will you make a play for a beatiful new
heart string? Will you remember her name? Now you've got this
plastic hole growing inside. It seems to be growing bigger than the
furniture at a most alarming rate. Man, you've got to
shrink it down again and quit taking on so much water. She's
just about out the door. The machine's going to leave
you,too, brother, in time,but that's not going to
hurt as much. She's also got a battery life to her illumined
feed. Yeah we need to make a best choice scenario happen
right now. What have you done? Plug into some solid
ground, dude. Let go of the stick and gain control of your hands.
They're not going anywhere but you are, you are,yes you
are. Every story worth a dime is a love story.
Darryl Price
I Can't Help It If Angels Like to Talk
with me. We must have something going on in common, but
for the life of me I can't think of what
that might be. I'm beginning to die. They
probably last forever like machines made out of light--at least when
compared to us. I wonder, are they trying
to escape heaven like we try to
escape our debt to the earth? They went back to the source before
us. They'll last. It's been a painful ride as far as I can remember. If
I were you I wouldn't give it another
thought. Go outside and deeply smell the changes that are happening.
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I knew many would want to check this out simply because, well, naked is naked. I hope you weren't too disappointed. Naked can also mean to be plainly viewed, thus the intended irony or pun. How can you be plain and naked at the same time? By not realizing you are parading around as such. I mean you realize it to a certain extent, but how much of it are you actually keeping hidden from yourself? And for what reason? Yes we are often forced into a corner and have to make unsavory sacrifices, but when the corner is chosen in the first place, can we really assign blame to others first? Even then, I am saying, we could still connect and have a moment of true lasting beauty come between us in spite of everything ugly that tries to consume us on a daily basis.
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This is good. Quite.
wild and raucous. like it.
Another great one, DP. The last line is perfect.
Oh, and happy spring back at ya! (It's autumn where I am - how weird is that?)
Not so weird that I won't take the happy and do a little dance for you.
"the wild instantaneous perfection that remains on display in your presence like a simple shooting star in the sky never fails"
Inimitable.