Poetry Poyems Poets RIGHT HERE!The first one is by me. It's a Junk poem, meaning that it's entirely comprised of phrases found in the subject header of my junk mail folder.
Are Middle Easterners Natural Born Killers or Simply Natural Born Losers?Enjoying your Poverty?
Pay attention:
this one is moving
topsy turvy, floppy movable,
heat competing
hard and rich,
the perfect timepiece.
The best prices for impotence
inviting luxury.
Everything a real man would ever need.
We promise.
The next one is by Nirmala Nataraj. Unlike me, she's an actual poet. She graduated from Berkeley. She's such a good poet, that she initially didn't want her name attached to this blog.
LoiteringHungry mothers
Bedless
Usher their droves of children
Down black alleyways
Into the sour dank
Of morning
A wino slumped outside
The international phone bodega
Missed his call
instead
assaults a passerby
With an ashen stare
Asks—
“wanna buy my poetry?”
A woman on her cell phone
Curses loudly
Kicks mounds of trash
Into traffic
Spreads the chaos of her annoyance
People look straight ahead
As a boy on a bad trip
Vomit-sobs into
The gutter
The woman
Still on the phone
hisses:
“Didn’t you fucking know—
Food stamps won’t buy you
No hot food”
