|
|
|
|
Best Poems From
LAURENCE OVERMIRE
|
|
| |
|
|
269.
|
Jolly Saint Nick
Santa Claus invented her parents, I think
Out of something in his vivid imagination.
He carved them out of wood
Cold, heartless wood
And he stuck in the eyes and ears
But they never seemed to work very well.
He gave them lots of brains
But they were too busy mowing the lawn and doing the dishes
To notice that they had them.
And the amazing thing is
Santa made them think they were noble, caring loving feeling people
And the look on their plastic faces
When she slammed the door
Jumped in her car and sped away forever
Was just priceless.
(Previously published in The Poet's Porch, Dec 2000)
Laurence Overmire
|
| |
|
|
| |
|
| |
|
|
270.
|
Just Out of College
Remember in our youth
Wed sit around the trendy bars
Serving words on golden platters of
Intellect
Words like polemical
Post-modernism, bourgeois
Antiquated, erudite
Oh what pompous little asses we were
Ha ha ha ha ha ha ha
Man, thats funny.
(Previously published in ZZZ ZYNE, # XXXIV,2002)
Laurence Overmire
|
| |
|
|
| |
|
| |
|
|
271.
|
Kerouac
Sounded the drum of his
Spent generation
Bobbity bomp bomp jazz me man
On the road without a home
War-orphaned
Drifting through the passing
Years
Nameless streets, forgotten bars
Lampposts dripping on dark corners
Hands to roll a cigarette
Words and women dropping in and out
Bottles to pour salvation
Soothing fire
In the cold flat of night
Eyes open and close
The music sassy, blue
Pounding
Surprising rhythms
Making it up
Beat by beat
As you go.
(Previously published in Pogonip, Apr.2000; Jack Magazine, Issue 1, Summer 2000)
Laurence Overmire
|
| |
|
|
| |
|
| |
|
|
272.
|
Killer Groceries
Mommy and Daddy take the little children
Almost dutifully
To the big-chain super-market
Packed and stacked with fantastic poisons of every kind
Chemicals, additives, waxes, fillers
Potent adversaries to bodily function
Carcinogenic criminals lurking in fine print
Too difficult to see
A glut of fat and cholesterol-laden
Goodies with bad intentions
Sweet-sappy-saccharine liars to
Tempt, cajole, and seduce
The unsuspecting, ill-informed
Prey
Tutored persistently
With unrelenting glee by a money-grubbing color box
That squats boldly in the living room, the den
The kitchen, garage and even in
The nursery
Drilling its insistent silly-sweet jingles, ditties and nonsense rhymes into
Dulled brains too tired to think
Or question the motives of a friendly smiling face
Who looks an awful lot like someone you know.
(Previously published in Courtship of Winds, Issue 1, January 2000)
Laurence Overmire
|
| |
|
|
|
|
|
|