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6x6x6 – One Poem

November 30, 2009

I hesitate to call this series flarf, but it’s more in that aesthetic than anything else I’ve been writing for a while. Does it matter what I call it? Probably.

Also, I’m seriously considering making all of these poems into one long poem. The titles could just hang out in squares to the side, more like highlighted quotes in magazine articles than titles. I like the idea of that.


Why There’s No Danger

They cram these two very
functional legs, the fifth
grade, limp and boneless like
that.  It seems pale in a
tight skirt.  Checkpoints, pay tax
on the seat between us,

so they grow impatient,
madly aroused, her dress
tucked up in the attic
and smashed, paint bombs hurled and
disoriented.  The
press and the little blocks

and four blaster cannons
on each side, on asphalt.
The hard part, car parts, the
ocean, wishing only
to know if she had a
pretty pickle, even

though I have a look of
approval and funding
for the breasts and buttocks
it engenders.  It’s an
attempt to think about
light and magic, the fake

penis inside of her
in the ass for sure is
a special work issue
of women’s work.  The man
was credible, compass
needles and promise of

mechanical cocks.  They
were all lined up. I am
sorry, I can’t help it,
that’s why there’s no danger,
the kids are learning flash
in the dark we study.

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