Poetry Dan Hedges — April 2, 2012 0:13 — 1 Comment
Word Graffiti from Central Mexico – Dan Hedges
Between alpha-thoughts
Warhol sucks limes,
where Pontiac and derivatives of art-freedomlevitate,
sacrosanct.
Baroque patterns of chaos and free willmarch (loyally) to the array of micro-trumpets,
so as to live with words once again.
Bio-chemical mindscapes,
known as songs to the self,
obtain merit badges (Allende was a Scout too).
‘Alouette’ the hopeful derivativesof gallery momentum,
or reverse migrate where required,
to a new ritual of orange.
Carriage of Aztecan brass shapesun-art that ‘old thing’
and caffeine ‘some something’
in the meantime.
The manuscript aims to debunkgrammarian sticklers and bonehead Lords of the ‘art-world,’
word-worlds away.
Quantum cliché hipsters take un-ironic geometry setsto angle-find America,
where crows and Eden un-spawn the metaphysicalto infinity.
Triangulate the set-listfor bushy tailed humanimals
and orphans of field-guide aesthetics;
Tree-diagrams set forth the monster conundrum,
where hummingbirds quell
quill squirching non-sense.
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What am I?
Bioluminescent eye
That sees by the shine
Of its own light. Lies
Blind me. I am the seventh human sense
And my stepchild,
Consequence;
Scientists can't find me.
Januswise I make us men;
Glamour
Was my image then—
Remind me:
The awful fall up off all fours
From the forest
To the hours…
Tick, Tock: Divine me.
-- Richard Kenney
Incredible poem. Really.