YES TO MADNESS
a daily poetry project by jason lester
3/31/11
before urinating
I perform the chicken dance
3/30/11
below the water
the wet moon
shivering
3/29/11
after turning off
the alarm on my cellphone
the world continues
to vibrate
3/28/11
I reach into my wallet
and help myself
to its last meal
3/27/11
inside the turquoise vase
it wasn't tulips
I found inside
3/26/11
they unscrewed my head
like a cookie jar
but the only thing they found
inside was a brain
3/25/11
cranberries
crammed berries
canned berries
can varies
3/24/11
qua
trains
of
rain
3/23/11
are the maple leaves
waving for me
to come closer
or to go away
3/22/11
I tap on the jar
reminding my captors
to please poke holes in the lid
3/21/11
my child stands
then falls down
inside his hamster ball
3/20/11
a vision of charlie parker
scooping up the steamboat
and letting the foghorn blow
3/19/11
a mouth to see
ears to taste
nose to hear
hands to smell
eyes to hold
3/18/11
a pause in the throat song
3/17/11
the world swelled
like a clitoris
3/16/11
planes swim
below us like minnows
hoping we're not hungry
3/15/11
even at sunset
the birds know an imposter
when they hear one
3/14/11
the trees link arms
gamboling through the park
but I tell them I only wish
to stand up straight for a while
and hold out my arms
3/13/11
I have no time for whitman
the man stated flatly
and began to outline
his zombie evacuation plan
3/12/11
my grandfather polished
it each morning
the poet read
and someone dropped
five staplers in surprise
3/11/11
I sit my little astronaut down
and comb the galaxy out of his hair
3/10/11
I give the mirror an eyeful
3/9/11
loaded down with guavas
and walking up my hill
so happy so happy so happy
3/8/11
snail inching
across the sidewalk
ellipses of slime
3/7/11
words pressed flat
between the pages
of a book
3/6/11
another idea
to slowly rust away
in the garage of mistakes
I turn myself
into a robot
now where is my circuitry
3/4/11
in the cornfields
small suns
asleep in husks
3/3/11
at the fountain I fill my water bottle
drink from it fill it again
while the line growing behind me
begins to plot my assassination
3/2/11
the light continues its steady crawl to red
3/1/11
the shriveled woman
running in slow motion
the dogs of time
barking louder and louder
Newer Posts
Older Posts
Home
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)