Tuesday, March 29, 2016

Screen Dump 280

Chapter One . . .

Why continue to revisit failed love poems? . . .
The answer my friend is blowin' through the skulls of hyenas . . .

Chapter Two . . .

You find yourself weaving in and out of rush-hour traffic . . .
You worry neutralization . . .
a recurring dream . . . through eyes wide shut . . .

Chapter Three . . .

The Paper Chase . . . as always . . .
You'll have the honor of last billing . . .
and an imagined proof hammered into the record books . . .
The word tangential keeps butting in . . .

Chapter Four . . .

Your managed theatricality? . . .
It's got the best of you . . .
And your autobiography?
Whited-out . . .
Yet, language seems to matter . . . to some . . .
And they know who they are . . .

Chapter Five . . .

Irrespective of the flaws in translation . . .
everyone deserves a life . . . in words . . .
its irksome footnotes tumbling through darkness . . .

Chapter Six . . .

Just what is this thing you have for augmentation? . . .

Chapter Seven . . .

The musicality works . . . it really does! . . .
despite the barbs of fishmongers . . .
and inane enjambments . . .
submitted for someone's approval . . .
Facebook friends . . . perhaps? . . .

Chapter Eight . . .

Notwithstanding extras . . .

Chapter Nine . . .

The Kryptonite Diaries: A Leg Up . . .

Chapter Ten . . .

Why worry bric-a-brac . . . bus schedules . . .
downtrodden flâneurs . . .
dispirited by manifestos from every Tom, Dick, and Harriet? . . .

Chapter Eleven . . .

Out with it! . . . Please! . . .

Chapter Twelve . . .

Fascinated by the limelight . . . as we all have been . . .
or are . . .
compromising our role as MC of the here and now . . .
wrinkle-proofed . . .
tugging away at unfathomable junctures . . .
for the attention of animators . . .
who couldn't care if less is more . . .

Chapter Thirteen . . .

How's that? . . . You could have at least . . .
Something . . . not exactly sure what . . . but it will come . . .
it will come . . .
when honeysucklers join with chamber players
on off-days . . .
and play the roof off the joint . . .

Liliana Karadjova

Friday, March 18, 2016

Screen Dump 279

Fear not the logorrhea of the unblocked . . .
The calamity of driving a golf ball into rush-hour traffic . . .
a scene from You Are There . . .
Sundays . . . 6:30 . . . with Walter Cronkite . . .
when parlors were doilied . . .
and the livin' was easy . . .
We run out of oxygen . . . again . . . and again . . .
in our search . . .
over . . . and under . . . under . . . and over . . .
chasing the maddeningly elusive center . . .
You've been there . . .
and scribbled rejoinders worthy of Shakespeare . . .
flagging insurrectionists in your dreams . . .
ordering IKEA furniture online
along with Jobs' launching of a perfect cube . . .
SRO to hear a machine say Hello . . .
And now . . . the underlining . . .
anointing a string of words for the next patient
fretting a toothache in a dentist's office
walls adorned with images of kids and vacation spots . . .
and instructions for flossing . . .
Hooray for those with a day-pass . . .
You've scanned . . . and uploaded . . . your Kodak moments
You will never forget them . . . nor they you . . .
no matter how hard you try . . .
as your insinuations morph into comedy . . .
and exit through the gift shop . . .
Miles's Blue In Green jostling for attention
alongside your students
omniscient . . . indifferent . . . whatever . . .
shepherded into the bipolarity of adulthood . . .



Monday, March 14, 2016

Screen Dump 278

This syndrome of impossibilities . . .
It would behoove you . . .
Really? . . . And I thought you cared . . .
About what? . . . Far-flung admonitions? . . .
Family members, notwithstanding . . .
I am ready to resume . . .
Why hesitate? . . .
Oh, now I see that the ON button has a tendency to stick . . .
Submit a requisition . . . posthaste . . .
The aftershock is always . . . perplexing? . . .
You are aware that this offer will expire, yes? . . .
Fortunes . . . made . . . and lost . . .
despite your attempt at entrepreneurship
at the last feature . . .
when the opening scene brought down the house . . .
Are you ready to face the music? . . .
I believe it's John Luther Adams's Become Ocean . . .

Anja Niemi

Friday, March 11, 2016

Screen Dump 277

With less than a lifetime to play 20 Questions
you decide to re-enter the fray . . .
pining for a rainy afternoon . . .
the entropy of the moment swooping down
with felt-tipped pens for talons . . .
You could have taken an easier way
but hysterical blindness is driving the bus . . .
so that's that . . .
Incidentally . . . slowly is off-putting . . .
especially in the middle of the naked truth
when gaggles of tourists . . . sweating vinyl seats . . .
barge in . . . aiming iPhones . . .
and waving permission slips from elementary school principals
bemoaning lost weekends . . .
Right about now I want to thumb through a magazine . . .
(I can't believe I just typed "tight" for "right") . . .
But enough of this fantasia-sport . . .
I for one grew into adulthood with knees bent . . .
and suede elbow patches . . .
miming the director of that mini-doc
I've forgotten the name of . . .
Ending with a preposition? . . .
You bet! . . . My swipe at the inefficacy of rote . . .
Eyes on the prize, I suppose? . . .
Let's not think this all the way through, OK? . . .
I want to savor the fortunes of a few . . . I mean it! . . .
I want to drop everything . . . for something . . .
I want to stick cuspidor into this poem . . .
There, I did it! . . .
Distracted by your description of things coming to a head
when, for whatever reason, the endgame arrived early
and we were taken aback by the thought of leftovers . . .
junior varsity ball-handlers mentally dissecting your jeggings
with the pump of tin men exiting a motivational seminar . . .
I began thinking about those lazy hazy crazy days of summer . . .
to say nothing of the vibes we got
from insignificant backpedalers . . .
who kept wandering in and out of the cottage . . .
letting the screen door slam
which for better or worse in sickness and in health
is now or soon will be on the tip of everyone's tongue . . .

Andrew Yee

Monday, March 7, 2016

Screen Dump 276

Driving on the wrong side of the looking glass . . .
Irrefutably Heathcliffian . . .
Again, the story . . .
Trying to get the story straight . . .
The story . . . a smattering of misapprehensions . . .
neologisms . . .
return trips . . .
lost in the aisles . . . of a used bookstore . . .
jostling for immortality . . .
not unlike Xboxers who
freely associating your solemnity with past escapades
now stand on their heads
in the queue at Mickey D's
waiting for their grilled chicken sandwiches . . .
in their minds . . . a healthier alternative . . .
Examine the crossbeams of your gingerbread house . . .
the crossbeams of your thoughts . . . your regrets . . .
while I interpret the shadow
of your half-smile
matching it to the shape of your hands . . .
the shape of your lips . . .
exposing your offerings
to the down-the-hatchers . . . and down-and-outers . . .
who have fallen for your Youtube flirtations . . .
kicking back on off-days . . . and on on-days . . .
engaging Throwback Thursdays . . . without remorse or endives . . .
your stubborn refusal (is there any other kind?)
best approached head-on . . .

Alice Through the Looking Glass (2016)

Sunday, March 6, 2016

Screen Dump 275

. . . doesn't every poem confess something?
          - David Kirby

You audition behind a screen for a seat in the pit . . .
the fanfare . . . Chanticleerian . . .
before stopping . . .
at the corner pub . . . in shorty . . .
the opening gambit . . . unpremeditated . . .
awakening video endgamers . . .
with a shuddering rise . . .
coming . . . again . . .
as if in service to Nefertiti . . .
taking a village . . .
letting the incidentals fall onto the gameboard . . .
moves . . . you invented . . .
gripped as you were
in the pre-sainthood days of martyrdom . . .
when every instant was up for grabs . .
the auction block loaded with requests . . .
(You do remember them, yes? . . .
not necessarily the sticky specifics
but the gist of the encounters . . .
some played by ear within earshot
of the players assigned to the rack . . .
the real point of the action) . . .
while outside the mist parlayed the rusting hulks of seafarers . . .

Fabio Chizzola



Wednesday, March 2, 2016

Screen Dump 274

People like to think that I was frustrated. . . .
          - Rose Wylie

Hickory, dickory, Doc Martens . . . evidently . . .
and then some . . . a full tank of gas . . . is not enough . . .
is never enough . . .
I celebrate my selfie, and sing my selfie . . .
as if bygones were . . .
while the looney tunes in the loony bin
soundtrack an unexpected darling of the art world . . .
glaring from beneath her pewter-gray bob . . .
seeded with happenstance . . .
nomenclature . . . a loose cannon . . . or canon . . .
wrinkling the thinking of those in the know . . .
Stop a moment . . .
and take issue with the troublesome minions . . .
especially now in the aftermath of an opening . . .
Disneyfying Dickinson . . .
Of course, you saw them . . . we all did . . .
so please drop (stop?) that line of questioning
before you're benched . . . two minutes on the clock . . .
with Klee, Taking a line for a walk . . .
The afternoon cometh . . . stalked by flurries . . .
It's not yet time to count sheep . . .
with a Hey, diddle, diddle, . . .
and free passes to the Auto Show . . .
And now you . . . with your camera . . .
memorializing moments for eternity's collage
awaiting the green light . . .
the steam train chuffing out of the station . . .
your unexpurgated memoirs . . . in tow . . .
through the woods . . . to grandmother's house . . .

Rose Wylie

Tuesday, March 1, 2016

Screen Dump 273

Sparring with place settings . . . at low tide . . .
as if rationalizing utensils with a sense of know . . .
accordion dreams back-pocketed . . .
tomorrow's version . . . on the tongues
of news anchors mired in flotsam . . .
Hum along . . . if you like . . .
with the dissonance of the Jersey shore . . .
where tête–à–têtes gasp their last
on the Bayone Bridge . . .
during rush hour no less . . .
and Roxanne tweeted something
about lumbago and Leonardo DiCaprio's
most-tweeted Oscar moment of all time
surpassing even Ellen DeGeneres's selfie . . .
Can you imagine? . . .
And just think . . . when the circus comes to town
you can suit-up for stand-up . . .
on the high-wire . . .
your four-inch heels . . . excuse me, five-inch heels . . .
just what the doctor ordered . . .
Playing ICU . . . at the light . . .
your coming (out) attraction . . . Oscar Night . . .
on the red carpet . . .
awaiting your cue . . . coat-racked against calm . . .

Per Zennstrom