Monday, March 1, 2010

D. B. Cox


clean-collar commuters
peer from the cover
of stylish shades
taking secret comfort
in a pathetic apparition
in an army overcoat
face down
in a pool of piss
in the mute humility
of his own guilt
while inside crusty
rust-filled ears
distant city traffic
hums like a “huey”-
spectral medevac
searching for a soul
lost forty years ago
somewhere along
the mekong river


in the gentleman’s
john-defunct exxon
hidingout-of-luck eyes
hard as roman nails
bony back
to the wall
dead man
at nothing at all
shaky tones
fallinginto a full-blown
smoker’s hack
rattling ‘round
the unholy sanctuary
top floor of hell
holding cell that smells
like a dress rehearsal
for the cemetery

Golden Gate

--- The Golden Gate Bridge is one of the most popular
spots for suicide in the world. In 2004, when a film called
“The Bridge”, was shot, 24 people threw themselves from it.

young mana random figure
on the golden gate
as if he know
she’s being filmed
a documentary
shot from a distance
camera rolling
holding the future
of his demise
a path unwinding
through time-
i am held fast
by the impending
of victim & killer
an event
that has found
its medium-
more real
than anything
in this room
where i site
yes locked
on the screen
as he leans out
& studies the line
that cuts between
air & water
the empty face
of the bay-gleaming
with the perfect sheen
of reality-he waits
for a signal-a cue
to be issued
from a place
only he can see
when it comes
he climbs on the rail
turns & falls-
from the stage
on his way
to whatever
discoveries there are
to be made

Baby, Please Don't Go

hey JB
can you wait
belong enough
to hit me
one more time
slide back
on your good foot
to fan
the famous flames
James can you
make 'em burn
a little longer
you're the man
this is your world -
break loose
off that cape
sing it loud
proud godfather
of soul
come on
please don't go

-all poems previously published at Laura Hird

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