Poetry for Strangers: Utopia

from the chronicles of the troubadour

the romani poured vinegar wine
the scrofulous silence was serpentine

charlie parker wagered five songs on cities
utopian jazz hounds reveled in their liberties

lou reeds incommensurate demands hollowed the flesh
the sizes of the gods are chanted in bangladesh

devilhanded despair is the soul of the ratsbane song
dead can dance but never for long

hidden in the calash was the wayward muse
riddled was the scumbled light, purple and diffuse

For more go to Poetry for Strangers: Utopia


Poetry for Strangers: Ostentatious


the lanner swept in on the sirocco
and landed on mary wollstoncrafts forearm

godwin slowly cranked the orrery
and sipped oloroso

from the promontory they could see the leviathan
languidly rolling in the water
as the armada approached readying the langrages

light from the balefire raging in the eastern strath cast a
lambent ostentatious glow upon the arcus clouds above

For more, visit Poetry for Strangers: Ostentatious

Poetry for Strangers: Cheetah

the wilding

the gaslight prophet visited the witchery
across the swale outside the sandstorm chapel
starlight seeped out of the grass
a freight of fireflies globbed over the
amphoras limning the sulfur-dusted path

the poetry kingpin came out
small and aged with a pageboy cut for her gray hair
like a bucolic goose farmer
but she wore pink houndstooth and led
a cheetah on a leash
piercing inquisition in her eyes
she had legends to sell

im tired of my cinder block problems
make me immortal said the gaslight prophet
the kingpin summoned from the hayrick
a terracotta tablet covered in cuneiform
running her fingers over the surface like a harpist
she plucked the resonance coordinates
hazy lavender light swarmed over the prophet’s heart
she clutched the light and stuck it in a locket
the prophet slumped over lifeless

back in the hovel she distilled a doppelganger
of the gaslight prophet and poured it from the
cauldron of mock up souls
she told him go forth hail the oblivion with songs
like a semaphore monkey

all in a mornings work she said to the cheetah
and sipped her cold coffee

For more, visit Poetry for Strangers: Cheetah