Is it true if you is cool hang loose lie still long enough you can see the animals of the garden, trees as symbols, the soft gods that dwell among the first knot of men, curious; the careless weeds free of the tyranny of summer lawns – man before the law. I am done….
Month: November 2017
distractions
The cat sprang across the lawn the bird between his jaws I hadn’t thought much of it because I was caught on the … A friend won big on the Melbourne Cup Was too drunk to call on my birthday which is cool & this…
it raineth
it raineth anyone could see the rain’s set in ‘the rain it raineth everyday’* in for the long haul down ridge and range on paddock and muddy track the low clouds kapok coming undone the rain falling on bowsprit and cockpit jacketed slick under canvas moored boats unresting spreading oil and lamp-lit shine on asphalt…
a single line that creeps in.
A SINGLE LINE THAT CREEPS IN. -Written by Taylor John. I. How Is Your Sentence? – I, have: no – Widow? – (Then) How, is: your – sentence? – Naught – by, The Sun; nor – The Icicle! – Now – leave, those Little Gloves – and, The Pre-Loved Clothing! (Don’t – try, to undo…
afterword
there’s no future in writing poems about writing poems. the critics of the next age will know you crapped out with nothing better to say. This poem, for example, is nothing apart from what it says & what it does to you – to see me go – as the…
from Workers of the Hours # 2
1 I pulled out, blind on my left, condensation on windows on the passenger side, cobwebs and night dew on the rearview mirror— pulled into traffic and didn’t care: if it is algorithms we base decisions on I hadn’t factored out as far as Pluto contracted with one of the moons of Saturn relative Sirius…
unfinished scraps
because I’ve had every sickness there is, I’ve become immune to everything. I don’t care that you’re violent, say things that aren’t true, & that I talk when it makes no difference. 2 my dog got his eye cut, & now we’re looking for some left-handed cat last seen heading north…
THE MUSE.
THE MUSE.-Written by Taylor John. – The muse locks me to itself as if it’s one cuffed naked to a bed. (Don’t worry, I’m not naked!) – Baaahaaaaa alwayd the muse. -ha, yep! I am, trying to kill them all in my manuscripts! With, a blade! In, trying to kill, my sheets! Or, at least…
DIRTY LAUNDRY DRAPES HER PATHETIC HEAD.
DIRTY LAUNDRY DRAPES HER PATHETIC HEAD.-Written by Taylor John. I Close My Eyes (Song). V.1 I close my eyes – for, the pretty girl – I see; Her hands – so, young – young, like me. I’ve got – the wild cat – as, a charm; Likes – her, lonely wounds licked: she – does…
RUBBISH SPRINKLES!
Rubbish Sprinkles.-Written by Taylor John. I. FAMILY. I. Lucky Rats! Law – has, won – and, undignified most Big Teethed..? THE RAW – Have’th, it’s Nonsense.. II. The Smoke! It – thought, That – ought, To be – Right? It – has been, In everything! (Even – in, Your, Plastic Soul..? (If – only, I’m…
for a politician
your voice broke & I could tell it was genuine. I took the piss & some slagged you off for it, but I was quite moved, Jacinda; even your name is like petals.
up this high
up this high up this high my horse chipping ice under hoof looking down over pine in shadow toward the valley of dry winter pasture in sun my guide grown in the moods of this mountain light assuring me the horse knows well how to step & where behind i see ridge taking ridge in…