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Several Couplets
Savage
Hinge
Token
Look
Classic
Speaker
Chair
Speed
Unclosed
Book
Full
denial
Swimsuit
Announcement
Artifice
Progress
Theatrical
adventures:
the
waiting pulse of a sleet storm
about
to arrive.
How
many appliances plug into that mouth?
Ladies and gentlemen:
Some background music:
A few stage settings.
Does
watching someone else have a feeling give you one?
When
young we must go backstage
to
be positive
the
king is still alive;
We
do not believe in acting yet.
Where
does what is about to arrive dwell for now?
A
curtain is a kind of androgynous foreboding
signify
not what will come
and
not even what sort of thing will come
but
that something will, indeed,
come to pass.
Where
is the string that attaches the insides of the past
to the organs of now?
Becoming
another
even
before
believing
in existence –
with
makeup
aesthetics
trump existentials.
How
do we say aesthetic need in the dark?
Pull
the string
to
emergency exist
memories
and evocations
with
their own sappy lyrics.
How
do the lights pounce on the answering machine?
As
for stages
we
are comforted by metal edges –
like
we all live
or
at least
how we continue
to
tell people we live like.
Is
there an intermission in tonight’s show?
Scattered
house,
not
empty, but scattered voices.
I
guess they’re scared of the ice storm.
“but
it shouldn’t arrive
till
after midnight.”
Have
you been burned on vows before?
How
would you react?
That’s
what I’m learning at the theater:
an
education in natural reactions
with
a talented cast and clever songs
of
a moment complete with
collegiate
finding out
who
we are where.
Moments
of provoked nostalgia.
Over
again in a rejection
of
who we decided upon.
Is
his tilt off?
Between
each luxurious verse:
staccato
conversations:
the
power is a hammer from before.
Before
conquering walls:
reverberations
with a symphony.
Can
we feel the dualism of two people saying
the
same thing for different reasons?
Appearance:
executive’s
son
as
rock critic –
appropriate
drink and pen:
choreographed
spontaneous jump
of
a moment in the early ‘90’s.
Wouldn’t
it be funny if the pen didn’t work and I thought it did?
Darkness
of intention.
Flirting
as simultaneous
rejection
and
attack.
The
ballad still oddly
touches my heart,
tries to bloom in my soul.
Several
Ideas to Think About Over Dinner
ideas gaze
glass professional torn hat
discard
welcome
period memory
shade
paid ring descending
father’s
ripped portion burned appetizer
canceled
receipt line by line
stacked books
currently
listening a cage cassette
credit card
number exposed
and the small grooves lend elegance
to your general game
from
respond the stupid glass you
registered for
into which
we echo a meaning in
the small of your back
following
pressing the
button
borrowing return
your greeting
burning
small books, but only small ones
has been sent
and various periodicals
request to
unwrap to respond
flame to keep
a crossing
out our hair in
braids sometimes lines
board words escape sounds
minimum
local fact
authorized
owing leaf
cash-back
travel efficient
and wrinkle
surf the fees and tapes
varying by
country and state.
Objectively
Speaking
Several
papers stack;
Ethnic
prints lay
Beside
empty cereal boxes:
Several phones stick
To our mouths
That bite the bread
In the sweet bad breath morning.
A
pillow is glued to your ear.
Several
ancient maps (not yet codified)
Are
sucked into your mouth.
Evaporation
occurs
Where
desiccation must locate.
It is not a hippie romance.
Sorry, we’re not absolutely lost.
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FRANCIS RAVEN's poems have been published in Pindeldyboz, Monkey Bicycle, Mudlark,
Pavement Saw, Poethia, Beehive, Gestalten, Untitled, The In Posse
Review, The East Village, The New Colonist, and Taint, among others. Essays
and articles have appeared in Clamor,
In These Times, Fulcrum, Rain Taxi, The New Colonist, Taint, and
Pavement Saw.
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