FIVE POEMS – Michael H. Brownstein

Posted: September 9, 2011 in Fiction, Poetry
Tags: , , ,
Don’t badger the enemy when he walks onto the Reign of Terror.
Step back to observe.
Watch his hands, his eyes, his knees. Especially his knees. 
They are the most confusing part of a human
cracking, breaking, sometimes falling to the wayside.
Check the field for potholes and traps, locust burns and devil’s claw–
all things that thirst for fractures, blood or light.
Make sure you don’t attach yourself to things that cling to flesh.
Only then should you enter the Brickyard of Sapphires.
Glitter is everything.
Don’t let its sun get in your head.
Knocked the earth out of me,
thick clods, mud worn,
blood listing from the Bodhi tree,
so I took the bones and planted them
in the grass filled yard of leaf and wind
near the place where breathing comes easy.
I am disgust in this little town
and my legs are no longer brilliant.
O Lord! O Tambourine Head!
O Beautiful Beast of the Mountain!
I eat tambourine plates
and everything caught in a net.
When the strongman cut his toenails
When the weak man let his hair grow
The food on the table of plenty
fed the nation with blood and flesh.
When the strong took on themselves
When the weak rose to the challenge
We ate squid and crayfish.
We ate oyster shells and banana skins.
When the man let go of his vanity
When the men let go of their vanity
There was enough to go around.
There was always enough to go around.
I’m a little bit confused by all of the eczema you throw at me,
But isn’t this still a glorious day for every animosity between us
Or would you rather be someplace other place else?
Ten to four, such a perfect time,
but there is no law to make it so
and there should be one just like–
there should be a law for
when the temperature dips below water freezing,
two or more inches of snow must be on the ground.
What use is cold without snow?
And if you have the same last name of the madman,
you do not have to go mad just because.

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