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Three Poems


John Tyson

spinning out their

my bitterness uncertain
banality spins like fried egg sandwich
mid-summer heat sits & stagnates
life in the 21st century without you
i dump everything
i learned from ted berrigan
into my coffee & likewise
Evan’s in my vodka
a walk 10 feet, hours
a walk miles, in minutes
i live a distorted public
vague wet perspective
oxygen seeks tongue
words leave silent
i am too unaware of who is in front
have memorized who follows
wallet chain strums shiner bock bottles
too many people in shorts
not enough language
salute yr decisions
question tactics
resemble claude monet’s vision
leave bitterness
unforgiven
banality
pockets
change.




why they can’t find you on the radar

only phillip marlowe understood
rubbed jimson weed & insertion
delivers gunpowder to another explosion
keep yr back to the sun
if you want a memorable souvenir
facsimile of delight
fascism of fear
dread
perpetuates orgasms of delusion.
i can write this poem
& you can read it
that doesn’t mean you understand it
or even me
like you get me
in yr work boots and shining star
like i’m some flu
un-tied shoe
i’m a frenchman within yr calvinist globe
dog that poisons yr lawn




later thursday

i use he
common as a rubber boot
though as an abbreviated mechanism
silence sings auras to the imprisoned
lock me in
feed me bread
move as sleeping rodent
so i may remain hindu
sweet
are you reading every word
or just dusting confusion