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3 Poems by Peter Magliocco |
Climbing Guadalupe Peak sounds louder in duskiness like the dawn of creation's big bang was each footfall climbing Guadalupe Peak over the reef of plant & animal skeletons dating back to the Permian Period your wife laboring by my side, her breath a caustic punctuation of lungpower, her eyes flecked a dull honey mesquite color while around us wildflowers gather for a wake: "I am climbing an island flooded by her dry untouching, even truculence can't rend the distant unseen spire we ascend," quoting lines from my own poem to her instead of these words I gather now as a wildlife afterthought wanting space serial masterpieces on death row, inc. painting for your mass consumption essential-expressionistic-angst from my criminal past i pop out a day-glo mastepiece daily not even the arty elephants rival my ongoing vision heinously colors have your VISA or MC ready for my girlfriend's processing we're planning to marry on the proceeds -- ("THERE MUST BE SOME WAY OUTTA THIS PLACE," Dylan's voice wails from the CD player in my cell) -- you know Christ was a criminal too so recognizable in my self-portraits his suffering face bleeds priceless holy water the Church sells you "free" ... so hurry, make me a Modern Masterbaiter before the Feds lethally inject us: Michelangelo was also a slave to greed the invisible Popes wait like repo-men your last painting's a bloody hell-red in the gallery for my blind castrato without a chaser the intangibles of being what we are on a good or bad night & the banal media blitz leaving its detritus in our unconscious minds like a bullet-winged Palestinian child expiring daily in our own ways, trying to resuscitate ourselves from worn angles we're one with yesterday's headlines "I've heard the voices of a garbled band singing nothing," you say irritably damning my reasoning, my sober asides amid that "dissemination of misinformation" called the nightly news which is mostly bad like the drinks you make without a chaser |
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