Carnivorous Saint

we dig up ancient shards
clicking cameras
among the dying cypresses
choked by Athenian smog.

yet cats continue basking
in the hazy sun
the chained goat sways in ecstasy
the Parthenon looks down from creamy heights
lichen and rust nibble the pediments
and tourist feet break the spell
of antiquity's vibrations

the grass hits
as I look at rusty orangeade caps
thinking Who needs nuclear Apollo?
thermonuclear Minerva?
Nike crashing to grand finale?

we need the anti-Christ
who is probably playing football around the corner
the sweet boy who used to be called Eros
and wants us to be happy.

bring back the carnivorous saint
whose mother is no virgin
she's Our Lady of Peace Movements
to ban the bomb and clean up the air
she'll wave her umbrella and change the world.

ah yes, when the grass hits
old worlds burn down and new worlds form
in clouds of brown monoxide morning.

Athens, Jan. 1964

70TH BIRTHDAY POEM

70 years old feeling like a samurai
With a dull bladed sword singing
Into the blade of night

Somewhere beyond the horizon
Sailors buried at sea
Rise in ghostly procession

Skeletons sharing their secrets
With withered old men
Lined-up like bowling pins
Measuring them limb to limb like
A tailor sizing you up
For a perfect fit

Special to the Corpse: Ohio Poet Makes Peace With self!

Belleview High School
Instructor of English

Untitled study of a dog: Adolf Hitler (n.d.)


The Wizard makes the argument
The Wizard explains

                  ECONOMIC CRISIS
                  buy low
                       stay high

        Nothing drums
                                        Exceptionalism

                                         like             suppressing it
                                                silence breathes
                                                shouts stone
                                                owns the sun
                                                settles eternity: the dust
                                                                                                spins an exception
              our faithless refine
                                       salute
                                                        corpses blocking keyholes
                                                                                                seven times
 mine
                                  superinfancy
                                                           anger’s angels
                                                                                      pull hair--
       finger heaven
                                  p.s. infinity
                                  plugged with puddles

MOTHER OF A TRILLION ORGASMS

Holy Margaret Sanger
Patron Saint of Orgasm

who first freed sexual pleasure
from association
with reproduction’

before birth control
how many million women
died in childbed

how many husbands became
“the blandly unconscious
murderers of those they loved
and had pledged themselves
to protect”

murdered by the urges  
of loving husbands

        for George Schneeman 1934-2009

Thinking about George in
January in California
The sinking sun lights a few late
Streamers of cloud with faint blooms
Like the distant inklings of
All one remembers

Goodbye Andrew Wyeth,
Thanks for the crippled Girl
Crawling through the weeds
Etched on to our collective Jungian attic-
Why didn't you buy her a wheel chair,
You know you should have.
Cheapshit.

THE FIFTHS
SCHERZO FOR A ROAD MOVIE
(for two voices, his in roman characters, hers in italics)