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and to think i saw it on floyd terrace

Tim Martin's Sonnet Project

Wednesday, March 12, 2008

Poem for V (‘s birthday)

Everybody’s got a little light under the sun

yes, who can measure time
that saturn live symphony shakes
booty around the dog star
has it water cooler patience
true believer in breakfast foods
what part of the day i say
shiftwork is light to read by
both endings of dirty novels
mouth born of black coffee
hands me down songbooks of
snow lions covered in long pillows
it’s the house where funked lyric
celebrates those nineties on muralled walls
it’s enough poetry to voice the late DJ

Tuesday, March 11, 2008

How ‘bout Them Apples

then two trains latter and i
mariachi singer at the forties
monday to friday hourly relates
in tempo changes that porter
tunes in crystal tube radio hobbies
or in counseling we awkward
robots with unpretty dates
‘tis your silent witness here
that rises early in smoke
stand on any moving object
is that faces make me hurt
and force countdowns when
home along oil down dust roads
it’s spring and all we misplace

Monday, March 10, 2008

Cocktail Hour

Pictures came and broke your heart.
-Trever Horn
for Brahm

4:23, when it is cheese, beer and coffee
how serious are our occupations
who took them in illness, youth
and no longer out of benders
man, no longer are we slashes
those points of struggle in used cars
that took us to sweetgrass and charged
over the hill to that fight we stuck with
when interfered by cellular technologies
we are left children who rattle and smoke
who believe magic boxes and broken rides
past the midnight of our responsibilities
who fake romance with still beaten smiles
at end happy with gifts of what had been

Sunday, March 09, 2008

The Spanish Lover

sunday is an empty cup by noon
there a leafed through copy left
of everything in a scary movie
it is a dance of chickens once more
whose russian bosses give noise
to promises of one day of rest
in foreign, it is easy to be taken in
to give over and boy scout on
with rumors that it is the business
here in summer she sips the kool-aid
it is points of tongue that occur
when citrus tastes old in march
perform faster to memorize her side
in the end, only our winters matter