Poem#24:The Massage Parlor: My back has potholes...PoetryMonthApril..

The Massage Parlor

my back has potholes
squeeze with feet and fists rub oils
exit work blues clues
is a fart a beautiful sound
await my release...

Micah Zevin 2010

The Sardine Can: Poem #22 and Poem #23: At The Hotel

The Sardine Can or Subterranean

peel the can back slow
take out crack pipes hide in smoke
everything dies swarmed
open sesame no exit
fool I was here first

At The Hotel

the black dress confess
do pests wear old lady vests
mess with the mess less
blame psycho in the mirror
check out prophecies

by Micah Zevin 2010

Incentives: Poem#21 April is Poetry Month...hi ho!

"Incentives"

Underlings like things
money carries shiny snacks
nap sacks to eat
we long for praise and patience
we crack toes and wait

by Micah Zevin 2010

Poem#20: From The Top...AprilisPoetryMonth

From The Top

rhapsody in spew
at the consolation of thieves
where reprieve means shit
lecture moles and sheep with heat
they will gasp and hurl

by Micah Zevin 2010

Giant Tanka: Poem#19: 'The Looking Glass' AprilisPoetryMonthproject

'The Looking Glass'

i walk the ocean floor
in venom black underwear
ready to spread ink
onto vultures beaks at dawn
i have tossed my turn

why remember dreams?
to make fetish past peep-holes?
in still waters we drown
just as we live with the fishes
all is alarming

i peel back sardine cans
and watch my father cry hunger
at palates assault
he's not mystified by loss
just disappointed

The blame blindfolds me
and places me in freezers
at the butcher shop
I opened her diary
It bore through me fast

when shiny new pans
attack will knives follow too?
wear baseball helmets
as darts shoot from her eyes
see my reflections

by Micah Zevin 2010

"Dead Again" ( butthistimeforreal: A tribute to Pete Steele of TypeONegative

"Dead Again": A Tribute to Pete Steele, lead singer of Type O Negative...

With sharp teeth of steel
you sang to night your demons,
romance's, many sweeth deaths.
Kisses were not just bloody in
the mind or dominated by October
Rust. They left an impression,
the mark of keys opening hill tops
reserved for some Nordic gods on
their way to the heavens.
If your heart failed it was not
because your heart was a failure.
Your fingers knew the right strings
to pick...

by Micah Zevin 2010

RIP Pete Steele of Type O Negative

Poem #17: Through the Storm: AprilisPoetryMonth...

Through the storm

Umbrellas shatter
I am wet and done
Spellbound by surrounding pools
I watch birds scatter
I smell the sewage...

by Micah Zevin 2010