Two Poems
by
James Venit
HOME MOVIES
What if I took an hour apart? At sea one moves one's own
monster, the Czar in the desert, in the woods, th e bar, the
mountains. What if these previsions are like blocks that fill with
snow and little chips falling from the facade become
characteristic dancers. Adjacency has implications, but the
ordinary citizen sees only the bug. What if I shouted?
So you are the little girl who squirts bathwater, air wick, flowers.
Your laughter
is
like a tree cracked by lightning, but out on the
golf course
The rain is falling and drips over the machinery like oil over all
the parts, the rifle barrels, the cannon barrels, the onion barrels,
the florist's barrels.
It
would cloak you in something heady like a
sensation, but highly polished and technical like a hat
I am not insisting
We are all good conductors and now we have had a fatal
accident, now we are in the period of economic recovery, later we
enter the age of lettuce and sprouts. Those who saw the paper
hats and dimes in butter. Those who sought the forbidden huts.
Those with the damaged hand, limbs of their children
It
was clearing until you swept up something empty as the
window finally brings you a street. Though that's what's meant
by " understanding: " a radio that bursts into tears like a
rainstorm, and a grey period waving the tricolor of brown ,
brown, and brown.
