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and to think i saw it on floyd terrace

Tim Martin's Sonnet Project

Friday, May 18, 2007

Last Stands

& wind remembers this slide
one born of beer & one of thunder
so she could see plain storms
as affairs with denial
here besides a good 49
that counts many ribbons
drink & sing coup songs
of nineteen eighties television
we vomit nostalgia
like all visual learners
dove bullet proof dancers
just to defy traffic
i remember the argument
but not the relationship

Monday, May 07, 2007

Left its Mark

no more yesterday split lips
in vagaries of first snow
is blue collar addiction
only performance on live tv
and like most things
i don’t like most things
here under thirty grand
we curse in sanctuaries
beneath white questions
what we say before we die
panics appalachian episodes
that immigrate all those
fathers of magic, boards & chestnut
converse all of their lives

Saturday, May 05, 2007

Rrose Selavy was my Lover

more spirits than the west
this hunting party of happy hour
crosses peaceless atlantic in rusty tin
parts at the house of worship
where war is a spoken contract
full of household habits
here with jack & jill
nude descends an ambulance
ready to pack it all in
old french men to divine with
atlases full of financial forecasts
that’s the problem of the bruise
my photo with wrench in hand
doesn’t make me a mechanic

Friday, May 04, 2007

Don’t Give me a Canary

this version is security fraud
my drug seeking daily jogger
happier than a new york doll
if old women without hints
tell you all about love secrets
it’s those 3rd world kitchen
therapies with flesh eating fish
that ask questions like breakfast
ubiquitous onion in typical plates
panhandles our black hat crowd
wrap leather cords to prescribe
what’s left for naming ceremonies
when regrets are handsewn wigs
this could be about bauhaus

Wednesday, May 02, 2007

12:19 30th St. Station

clockwatching station stop gaps
from this silent spring city
it was no one’s favorite comedy
lifted in the archangel’s arms
from empty nests of war dead
even me, a king of may
could use a good rolodex
monday, this is home
because you have shown yourself
rough seas to sail on whalers
this opening act of rock stars
wound up in ill-fitting clothes
yet nothing is left undone
& tonight every bar is empty