December 01, 2003

Lineage

by Jeffrey McDaniel

When I was little, I thought the word loin
and the word lion were the same thing.

I thought celibate was a kind of fish.

My parents wanted me to be well-rounded
so they threw dinner plates at each other
until I curled up into a little ball.

I’ve had the wind knocked out of me
but never the hurricane.

I’ve seen two hundred and sixty-three rats
in the past year, but never more than one at a time.
It could be the same rat, with a very high profile.

I know what it’s like to wear my liver on my sleeve.

I go into department stores, looking suspicious,
approach the security guard and say
what, what, I didn’t take anything.
Go ahead. Frisk me, big boy!

I go to the funerals of absolute strangers
and tell the grieving family: the soul of the deceased
is trapped inside my rib cage
and trying to reach you.

Once I thought I found love, but then I realized
I was just out of cigarettes.

Some people are boring because their parents
had boring sex the night they were conceived.

In the year thirteen hundred and thirteen,
a little boy died, who had the exact same scars as me.

via unpoetic
Note: Link is not working right now.

Posted by Karen at December 1, 2003 10:36 AM in poetry
Comments

Love it.

Posted by: jimmy at December 1, 2003 10:50 PM

I like it a lot too. First found it on Nov 2 and posted it as a comment to Brink, but it is so good that I thought I’d pull it up.

I think it’s typical of the kind of poems I like.

Posted by: Karen at December 2, 2003 08:44 AM

Some prose poems

Posted by: Karen at December 7, 2003 08:49 PM

Hyperage

Posted by: Karen at December 7, 2003 09:05 PM

… the link still isn’t working yet but
i am glad that you liked the poem.

soon… soon…

Posted by: allan at December 19, 2003 09:02 AM

We all luuurrrved the poem a lot and I’m looking forward to the relaunch of your site. :)

Posted by: Karen at December 27, 2003 12:48 PM

The Quiet World
also by Jeffrey McDaniel

In an effort to get people to look
into each other’s eyes more,
the government has decided to allot
each person exactly one hundred
and sixty-seven words, per day.

When the phone rings, I put it
to my ear without saying hello.
In the restaurant I point
at chicken noodle soup. I am
adjusting well to the new way.

Late at night, I call my long
distance lover and proudly say
I only used fifty-nine today.
I saved the rest for you.

When she doesn’t respond, I know
she’s used up all her words
so I slowly whisper I love you,
thirty-two and a third times.
After that, we just sit on the line
and listen to each other breathe.

Posted by: Karen at January 16, 2004 02:59 PM


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