Eleusis
the world has the gloom of an empty wishing well
in a closed suburban mall
so I offer my day to the eleusinian mystery
and I offer demeter my hotel room locked for hours
and my fingers to key the hallucinations she’d like to orchestrate
and she pours the kykeon down the throat of my whatever is deep
and my ego recedes into the persephonic everything
and when I return I am an initiate into the cult of abyss babel
I’ve been to the underworld already
and now I won’t ever be afraid again.
Sapphic Endurance
twenty-five centuries later
her poems still are read
fragments only without context
attributed to her or so they say
the lost and long gone they
but still they inspire and excite
true to herself in her own time
her own era
that’s how you endure forever.
Des Refusés
these wild artists have made again a mockery of our national art
their deranged colors and incomplete works they submit
their offensive nudes have nothing idealized or christian about them
their gutter subjects and blasphemous themes are outright obscenities
and insults to public decency and our esteemed museum patrons
what disrespect for the sensible conventions of the medium
mark my words
this impressionism won’t be long worth the canvas it’s painted on.
Grand Tour Syndrome
the grand tour was a bit of a letdown
all the way from london to see the lingering roman ruins
they are not as were advertised in the souvenir paintings brought back
but were romantic creative liberties that misled me and my money.
she was wearing a sash that said the superlative
“most italian”
and also had a hat that said
“I heart olive garden.”
Great Woman Theory
the comtesse was friend of the king
a socialite who did his dirty work inviting enemies and rivals and critics
to her famous parlor where she wined and dined them
and cut off their heads at dessert
and had she not died of an unfortunate disease outbreak at just twenty-two
she may have snuffed out the revolution from her dining table
and lived long ascendant as the lady of the ancient regime.
Killing It, Girl
an actress from new york was starting to make waves
and she brought a movie script along on her vacation to thailand
sitting by the pool memorizing every line in the entire production
to kill it in the role and reach escape velocity out of cattle call mediocrity
and she sat on the side of the infinity pool on the rooftop of her hostel
flipping pages and mouthing lines with her eyes closed
sunglassed golden face sparkling in the sun
feet to the knees dangling in the pool
feeling good and sexy in her one piece keeping it classy not cheeky
cause she would soon be a professional serious actress.
Concerts In Your Twenties
she had long been a perfect little christian
loving and looking forward to each week’s sunday service
and its morning enthusiasm for christ
and the energy so contagious with the band
inspired surely by the holy spirit for sure
and devoted herself to sunday morning services every week
until she went to a secular music festival
and felt the same kind of cosmic belonging and vibe connecting
singing along calling back to the singer thrusting his mic toward the crowd
and she realized maybe it wasn’t godly intercession at church
maybe she just liked live music.
you are the star of your own mumblecore film
it’s okay if you’re aimless and wandering in life
a few people out there from the far lonely future will find it
algorithmically offered for historic novelty and think it a little interesting.
every poem I ever write
is a handout to a stranger
to ask them if a random idea I had I thought was interesting
or means anything to them at all.
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