Forty-nine Cards & Three Constants


one

They did so much justice to me
time it took for my arrest
was a hole Modernity paralyzed
Nouveaux Riche got a share on
inside tip Ponzi scheme
they had to sell kaboodles to
age-old buttercups from mouths
frozen mammoths used then
pressure washed out ice white
keeps up with my adrenal load rules


two

So much Modernity to sell ice
with my nouveaux white time
used mammoths for justice, did they?
Frozen load got adrenal tip inside
my arrest took me to it paralyzed
a hole up keeps riche share
had they kaboodles on Buttercup's
Ponzi scheme was age-old
from a pressure to out-
washed rules then mouths


three

Arrest load kaboodles age-old
buttercups took to me nouveaux
adrenal justice tip-up time
keeps Modernity white so much
was from inside my got-frozen
Ponzi scheme mouths did share
they used my riche mammoths
to pressure a rule-out they had on
for to hole ice with a sell
paralyzed it then washed




Western Serf



So the Duke stands up
to the steak situation
& sniveling cronies drunk

With flagons of hops
on the cuff – “No Liberty,
you pick it up”

Liberty himself blotto
& as out-wigged
as a corn-bred barrister

Sees his waning
twists phallus & turns heel
high tailing by the mob

Back to the grass-land
demesne & plans for the Capitol.




Guemes Island, Spring 2017



Your face is boned with sponges' skeletons;
Maraldi angles & spirals, the tension
of your whole body in Brownian motion
until I’ve dipped you into solution

& you form a colony of anemones
I examine in a warm tidal microclimate.
I breathe out swerving atoms, shaping
my lungs into curlew's wings. Somehow

I curl into the sum the spirals fly for,
square roots filling air with stars;
trapped at the back of anemone caves
surf clams spit red sand propelling them-

selves to places we believe in—when eels
turn our limbs to axes for infinite water,
a curved surface, re-entering
on itself & endless everything is young

in this blue clay. I’m an elastic solid—
you crawl, exhausting the lime in the water;
we grow hyaline, into another matter
traced by the birds' shape on thermals.

 

 

 

 

apocryphaltext Vol. 2, No. 1

3 poems by eric elshtain


Make an effort to buy Eric Elshtain's book Here In Premonition from RubbaDucky Press (Chicago/Brooklyn).
Take a look for free at the on-line poetry press, Beard of Bees Press, edited by Elshtain at http://www.beardofbees.com.