Poetry
* JIVE FAUST - By Hal
Bogotch
* The Lag - By Jim
Smith
* American War - By Simone
White
* I still owe her $6,000 - By Rex
Butters
JIVE
FAUST
By Hal
Bogotch
What is worth a
soul,
brother?
stacks
of green in back
of white
cadillac
bite the bullet with a
hint
of glint in wide
smile
mark crossroads
now
with black cat
bone
pack status
quo
in gray carpet
bag
zero in on hot
lobster
tail for red
hide
go beyond purple to
rain
on rainbow pride
parade
call my
flush
dark
ace
flash, you
lose
silver cloud
heaven.
-----------
The
Lag
By Jim
Smith
In our 20s, we act like
teenagers
embarrassing ourselves
needlessly
In our 30s, we act like 20
year olds
still in the flower of our
youth
In our 40s, we act like 30 year
olds
misjudging our pinnacle of
power
In our 50s, we act like 40 year
olds
pretending to be what is
passing
In our 60s, we act like 50 year
olds
breaking bones
needlessly
In our 70, we act like 60
year olds
squandering our hard-gained
wisdom
In our 80s, we recline and
consider
our many ages in
contentment
-------------
American
War
By Simone
White
do you remember the American
War
it wasn’t that long
ago
it was fought on every
shore
are you trying to tell me that you
didn’t know
I saw you reading the
paper
at the corner store
(yes I know, that’s a
joke)
did you ever think you lived inside the
belly of the beast
are you giving it
something nice to eat
or are you waiting for
your very own
special
treat
we like to live on easy
street
do you remember all the people we
bombed
all the homes that were
there
that are now
gone
we’ll whoever told you that life
was fair
people have to
die
over
there
did you ever think this was the
greatest country in the world
with freedom
and democracy and SUV’s called
Liberty
for every boy and
girl
the oyster chokes on its own
pearl
“we know you can’t help
where you’re born
it’s not that
you’re foreign
it’s what you
stand for
we know it’s hard to start
reform
the revolution’s
born
but no one claims
it”
(winning
ticket)
do you remember the American
War
we thought it was fun but it was a
bore
do you remember the American
War
we forgot what we were fighting
for
we forgot what we were fighting
for
we forgot what we were fighting
for
--------------
I
still owe her $6,000
By Rex
Butters
another restaurant night
running burgers and beer
trays and days
running away
check for my
name
on a hot pass food
ticket
lying by food drying
out
stainless steel and heating
coils
I turn to see who at the door
needs seating
maybe just a greeting to buy
some
time and maybe squeeze another
dime
out of a
table
impatient for
water
SHE’s standing
there
it can’t be
her
her hennaed
hair
her trademark
mane
Al tries to seat
her
I call his
name
he turns/she
turns
“put her in my
section”
she tries a
name
“Rex?” she
asks
I’m always
forgettable
and never look the
same
her flight canceled/stuck in
Seattle
her tourist guide recommends our
lamb
16 years
before
I see her sweep the
floor
younger in experience but looking the
same
Tower Records/Westwood
store
her break time
spent
practicing bass/working on
scales
working on
songs
a musician
first
she’d lost her a band to
Hollywood trash
her last band hit
big/(you’ve seen the video)/
they
broke up/she unscathed by fickle
fame
practicing bass/working on
scales
working on
songs
a musician
first
“you know when I think of
you?” she asks
driving on Sunset
where you totaled that car”
oh
that
free tickets to Peter Tosh at the
Roxy
sweet easy luck fogs my
glasses
driving my roommate’s
car
powder blue ‘76 Pinto
new
woman with
me
crazy coworker/CIA future/diabetic
drinking
Drambuie
“this
car drives like a cow,” I
observe
even the manual
trans
sleeps in my
hand
“I wonder how fast it’ll go
before it loses
control,” she
speculates
conversation going
nowhere
I hit the gas at the Bel Aire
gates
into the
turn
downhill straight
away
snaky
snaps
us a change up on a curve
“hey,”
I say, speed needle nudging
eighty
“it’s handling
it”
in a hard downhill twist past
UCLA
all lush green grass and
fences
perpetualling peeling
eucalyptus
at the upturn in the
road
a summer’s night water
hazard
someone daylong irrigating their
lawn
we
hit
slow mo hydroplane slide half block
uphill
sideways
gentle
floating moment
then reawakened tire
traction
shoots us into the offroad
underbrush
we
drive the cheek she tore
face smacked the
dashboard
good samaritan stopped/offered the
ride
emergency room
stitched
her scarless
from
the
inside
me
he
drives back to the
wreck
front end
twisted
battery shoved into glove
box
radiator right behind
it
we’d only hit
weeds
and a
hillside
“do you know anything
about this?” surly LA cop
on the
scene
demands
“yessir,”
I say “I’m the
driver:
“don’t bullshit
me,” he says, “the driver of this
vehicle
isn’t walking
around”
he points a thick
hand
at the police spotlighted Pinto
windshield
broken/driver’s
side/shattered outward
a shellacked convex
spider web
I point a hand at my
cap
“that’s no problem for
me,” I grin big
“I’ve
had plenty of head
injuries”
Posted: Tue - May 1, 2007 at 06:20 AM