Christopher Mulrooney

 

 


 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

figuration nice

the chute drops and they fall
ornamental snowmen
of disasters

hitting the silk
of temerarious response
do they reside
and bide
the ever-receding osculation of the tide

 

 

the old song

the good old marital conundrum
spills other days
afore my forecourt
my supplicants enter and whine
enter and whine

Dis was my biddy
and Dis biddy ate my raisin plum cake
and Dis widdershins

but you get my picture

 

 

life in the big city

it's a lean-to
against the kitsch
makeover

the headless horseman
amid the droppings
of his steed

 

 

discourse of a plantation man

my screed-gifts magnanimous
enlarge the plantation
by a various plenteous
device of incantation

it stands for me
I placard it
soberly staidly mightily
it figures me
like an old scarecrow
it adds up for me
me it adds up to

monumental as the dry day
when no-one spits
to see the addendum on a will
a codicil of no devising
naming my expectorations
valid on the bottom line
so that the partridge hens lay their eggs
in the sassafras tea
beside my pillow
and I read the muck in the cup's bottom

 

 

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