Today's poems are by Jon Woodward
A Seahorse Loop
A stupidity, a soup
in a shutdown, stand-
still, stunned spect-
atorship of a
dried seahorsekiss, optical
oscular, telescoped
together, too
close to
counterthis (theinterposition
the incorporation of the brain-chunks of
& kiss hiss back into
a 16-second tape loop
of the Chinatownone stands too long in) stands
and looks too steadily into
the store window,
the bowl of
dried seahorses thereit's maybe going
to buy one of
to carry around with it a while,
stands there
thinking that.
Salamander
The janitor asked me how
to pronounce the creature's name
& I said salamander for him.He looked at it on the screen
and I looked at him.Slide your legs into its tail I said.
I can't he said as he did.
Dish your guts there into its cavityof guts, I can't he said (manifestly untrue
for he did so). Mash the thing's
name and yours I said together intothat irreversible hole I know you keep
and he did & it broke over his face& flowed, water from the earth,
I can't, I can't, he said.
Copyright © 2006 Jon Woodward All rights reserved
from Barrow Street
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