The Literary Review
Page 62
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Issue 10 Page 61
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Life on Uranus
there’s none as far as we know
& most are content
to leave it at that cold dark
gaseous & further from our thoughts
than the sun beyond which lies
a large part of the universe
still under construction so
expect long delays that’s where
the dead go except for db cooper buried
under the downtown holiday inn
waiting like richard iii
to be uncovered another mystery solved
yet why as we’re setting off
on a weekend getaway to the lake
traffic backed up
past the vanishing point
clouds rumbling on the horizon
why would you tugging
at my arm nearly tearing my half-
unbuttoned shirt
howl at me to go back
so you could buy an evel
knievel collector’s cup at the 7-11
we’d just passed jesus why would anyone
because you said you’d seen him
jump this very gorge
when you were eight maybe nine
whatever the math I was pretty sure
it amounted to bullshit
but to prove it you plucked the mirrored
shades right off my face & flung
them out the window across
the ravine or tried as you swore
knievel did in his stars
& stripes jumpsuit looking a little
like elvis in vegas tumbling off the stage
OK But
the shapeshifting moon
makes it difficult
to predict what kind
of slice you should ex-
pect to see of the
pie that’s our mores
if that song is true
all songs are true &
the figures check out
like ralph & alice
after a weekend
stuck in sheboygan
by the frozen lake
of memory when
he claimed he’d spotted
a cheetah crouching
behind the lobby couch
she scoffed said deadpan
straight-faced that cheetahs
are born with c’mon
man you know the thing
spots & everyone
laughed at that phony
hotel where wasn’t
it liberace
who said I’m not a
piano but I
play one on tv
you’re a damned lyre
nobody’s ever
tested the theory
of free trade outside
the laboratory
that’s a red flag that’s
why it’s important
whitecoat folk tell us
that you keep in mind
results may vary
depending upon
individual what
let’s call use so it’s
not exploitation
common side effects
include loss of hair
loss of hearing loss
of humanity
hard stools exploding
brain heart gout toe jam
a sudden lack of
appre-
cia-
tion
for fragonard &
in severe cases
caravaggio
nothing’s perfect &
that’s what you get but
there are plenty of
worse things in the first
place have you seen the
shawshank redemption
you’re not on death row
are you I mean well
are you believe me
I’m really sorry
for whatever the
fill-in-the-blank you
said I did but once
you signed the contract
you took the damn job
& as for second
place nobody gives
a rat’s fuck they don’t
throw parades downtown
when you blow the world
series hey look out
for number 1 &
you might want to keep
an ion 7
2 4 it 8 9
I like to say like
the old chestnut &
today I myself
am that old chestnut
I solemnly swear
so help me gold or
however it goes
In Sanctuary
popeye loses his skivvies
& dixie cup cap quicker
than a drunk sailor on shore
leave exchanging them
for a funereal black
suit & slouch hat that he tilts
to shade his squinty eye gone
is the squeegee-clean
persona the kid friendly
cackle the familiar corn-
cob pipe a foul spinach-green
cigarette nearly
burnt to the nub now dangles
from his lower lip as he
mutters such memorable
bons mots as I yams
what I yams or that’s alls I
cans stands & I canst stands no
more highlighting faulkner’s fine
ear for dialect
olive oyl the apple of
popeye’s eye his good one plays
a ditzy yahoo hailing
from yazoo city
with an uncanny knack for
making men so horny they
hurl themselves like lemmings of
lore off lover’s leap
on cue popeye’s nemesis
bluto nee brutus in seer-
sucker suit & suspenders
enters a small-town
attorney charged with taking
on his rival not with skull-
cracking ball-busting scrawny
ass-pasting sorts of
brutality as is his
wont but in a court of law
he knows popeye’s a psycho
the grim & gravied
round the clock rough house crowd out
to lunch in perpetuum
watched him empty his gat
into j wellington
wimpy’s gut the price of a
hamburger unremitted
tuesday as agreed but can
bluto get even
one of those lily-livered
yellowbellies to say so
under oath alice the goon
shines as a narco-
leptic sex worker likewise
swee’ pea’s a natural as
a bawling brat that said I
give sanctuary
a less enthusiastic
recommendation than the
hamlet what with its haunting
backwater backdrop
where a conniving uncle’s
marriage to his brother’s well-
endowed widow leaves them all
in a rotten state
Nobody You Know
wears a denim jacket with cut-
off sleeves so really
it’s a vest multicolored
inked snakes coil around his arms’
dark sweating muscles
under his pickelhaube chrome
spike smudged with grease or
is it blood his long curly
dirty blond locks blow as he
revs his hog riding
your bumper sneering scowling
goggles tinted black
he looks like a giant wasp
one with a waxed wing mustache &
heavy five o’clock
shadow at a quarter till
noon in your rearview
the message from the maker
offers no consolation
he appears closer
than you want the angel of
death pointing at you
with his black fingerless glove
throttles past you up the road