Friday, April 22, 2016

JOHN GODFREY ~




J O H N     G O D F R E Y
photo Ted Roeder




Everything Beautiful



Buick, big old boat, purrs

Backs into the square of moonlight

where the path is worn



Notice you must the pang

in the air

                 You hear

a little of bells, a little of hypnosis



I have traced all this to my body

Everything beautiful, and everything

that ever goes wrong



One giant light of green

and one of gold, inject the glow

chosen sky by the city






Tiny Gold Dress



Days so fleet you have to've

seen unruly ones

I do all the time

Someone I soon trust

puts your hand in mine

Just what I'm looking for

Start with the body

and search me

Won't find me sleeping



I dig my six feet

and you stand there in

your tiny gold dress

Can't believe my eyes

Your smile knows

Your ever-so-slight lisp

Ahead of me in the

opposite direction

Big man alerts me



I shed little bits

of chivalry

I caress like one bereaved

Forethought and hindsight

in the flesh

Peanut shells under bed

Lamp nearby of

fire and roses

Ribbons of smoke sketch

momentarily an orchid






Pool Cake



When she sleeps on the floor

When the umbrella blows

into her hand



The whole landslide is missing

She treats me like a conversion

I am a probability



Eclipses her in sheets of snow

How many emotions on

the tines of a fork



Her particular disguise for dust

The haves are equidistant in time

You could say everything is minus that

To those who waken stealthily

Sew up the hat real neat

Frost ascends the blade






Flakes



Muddy plastic spoon

Barefoot on eolas

First they nab the tramp



Words sort and sink

Ash glitters on her collar

Jumpseat vapor smell



She interrupts herself

I too blow smoke

Can't hardly overhear



Farewells then walk alone

Night briefly unwraps

Inevitable hallways






Wavy



Boogaloo

the best you can-can

Time hangs in braids



There is room for

that hip in the

blazing gold drum



Do not hasten

The crosswalk aglow

Maybe learn nothing



Signature footsteps

I know what to do

with the wrong dream




_____________________

JOHN GODFREY
The City Keeps
Wave Books, 2016


 







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