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Jonathan Hayes
After several wet salmon seasons in Alaska while
working in a cannery, and hoboing along the Columbia River of Washington,
until joining fruit tramps and migrant workers in the red delicious apple
orchard, and then driving a John Deere tractor before sunrise on
slippery-dewed grass of agrarian reform, the factotum ceased. Now a
barnacle-covered hermit crab scurrying from class to sea lettuce in the tide
pool of San Francisco State University, by the not-always peaceful Pacific
littoral.
the briefcase
1. A white rock that sizzles.
2. A $20 sack of purple grass from my dealer, Doc.
3. A six-pack of Bloodweiser.
4. A pack of menthol smokes.
5. A chorizo burrito.
6. A chair.
7. A desk.
8. A computer.
9. A dvd of Lucy Lee.
10. A day off from work.
http://www.muse-apprentice-guild.com/summer_2004/guest_editors/jonathan_hayes.html
http://eastvillagepoetry.com/OldPages/JonathanHayes.htm
http://www.unlikelystories.org/old/hayes.html
http://www.geocities.com/fivereview/hayespoems2.htm
Jonathan Hayes
Michelle Kwan and Tears
the energy and emotions
which once choreographed the great show
are frozen and flat
now, we skate over thick ice
w/ no remorse
Egg Roll and Lucy Lee
("some people claim that
there's a woman to blame, but i know it's nobody's fault")
it's time to clean the dust
that we have let accumulate
off the wall
two year ecstasy trip
of
anything goes and grows
now the heart struggles for a rebirth
of an empire inventing new calligraphy
settling for cheap fun at the desk
with sweet-and-sour sauce
no need for a napkin
let the poo-poo platter of the mind
blow up!
west side strawberry dakota tragedy
and the exiled muse living uptown
five minutes from the bronx
footsteps announce footsteps
"you have lost your voice to the simplicity of white trash,
and i'm not giving the ring back"
meanwhile,
sadness like the yankees losing to the twins
at home
absinthe
green kool-aid loony tune
cinema
verlaine lip fumbles biscuit
beef jerky toss-up sidewalk
waiting for van gogh vein to explode
a horny toad is a honest toad
Hop, Snickers Bar and Sex
stimuli shiver / dog drivel
add zero / ad infintium
[Jones Street]
shopping cart basecamp
street soldiers trooping pavement
not able to get back to Detroit Rock City
tricks are better in a john's house
hotel rooms loom with bad moons
outfit
bottlecap
blacktop
= the impenetrable stare
moaning rugburns marvel
Italian Ice and Wiffle Ball
pink tofu
the glamour of sin
The Big Apple's
intrinsic beauty
seeds floating
around the core
bubble toes
only the king
is allowed to eat
lychee fruit
three fires inside the flesh
grass jelly laughter
do not eat
the bittermelon seeds
or they will grow
in your stomach
uptown:
playground games
low-income sweat
asphalt nostalgia
Rhinelander
and the youth of today
Rupert was a brewmaster
life's complications
are excuses, not reasons
the pigs and chickens
live happily, together
make naan
not war
batter up!
Jellyfish and Vinegar
lightning
breaks the bone
Puck
is on the throne
duck egg / skin anchor
ball and alcoholic chain
(submissive cucumber)
the weight of defeat
[on the perimeter of Times Square squared]
she took a Polaroid picture
and placed it on her pillowcase
next to her head in bed, whispering
a mantra
of multiplication tables
product:
prayers answered
Skydiving and Ruscha
15,000 feet
gunpowder on paper
the flat space of words
explode for $119 a jump
you can predict when the tides come in
but what they bring and take is of their own
santa creature
by the boardwalk
wharf kids stumble
the middle name, "seth," papa red fated
and all its Homeboy [1991 Random House]
nepotistic tenderloin connections
of fried chicken and laughs
and what janis joplin
left behind
between the bed and
wall/
Victoria's Secret and Compact Disc
Stan Lee's gods and
monsters
a Marvel myth
for drugstore comic book kids
on corduroy knees
the Incredible Hulk in purple shorts
[Mr. Bubble Bath]
on the Other bridge Golden Gate
West Coast style / wacky watermelon
Ginsberg, what is it you got against the
Sir Francis Drake Hotel?
Moloch!
egg rolls and ghost sauce
sticky rice w/ milk and mango
yum like Om
Om like yum
and the glue of their stubbornness held them together
© All poems copyright Jonathan Hayes 2004 and are
reproduced with kind permission.
Please email me
if you want to contact the author. |