bree
bree grew up in cleveland heights, performing music and poetry.
she is the founder of GreenPandaPress, which produces local chapbooks
and anthologies of poets and artists. she is often a quiet genius channeling the memory of d.a. levy on scrap paper & the gone wind.
breestings@yahoo.com
Headmistress Calm
Georgey sed on NPR this aft,
we are to Expand Democracy
(i'll fill in to mean) busted bldgs.
and wet people. finished wrkers
in abolished states.
Choices fer the Choice-est.
Spreading freedom
like lox ona bagel.
Seems fishy, but delicious
if u just chew, savorin.
I mean, close them eyes
and drift in time to More
Freedom breakfast specials.
Sausage & Pancakes, babe.
Bloat in the belly and fill
a trough. Wet folks, in a dry
dry nation. Sellin alabaster calm
& a laid off frenzy. Can i get it
to go? Will u wrap it like the
woman wants? There's a small
figure init fer u.
We'll Take the Regular Cheque
We Sunday, is all. Slack-jawed & Gold
What's so truthy?
Slice and peel back a skin organs
Play thru peel, and we eat.
What aint evasive?
Shock them antlers fore the
Squeezing shock of death's tight
Rope walk down a sundry
Aisle.
We got brunch, baby.
Now that we together and juice's fresh,
Why not admit some shit onna tablecloth
Sum muther ironed,
Why not lay on yer own plate.
In the honey, in the broken yolk ovit.
Cuz busboys comin and he done
Miss a stitch in time. Our meals almost
Over tho we finally just got
Down to it---
I propose a toast!
Rang them glasses, darlings!
to an early lunch!
To brusque bldg.s!
to a cinch to peel, an everly-laid-back
Porch sit with plain folk talk only.
U can take yer horoscope hisstry
Books and shove em under the dictionary
Ill use to lay flat your own brothers and
Sisters all in the pages.
Ill drink and make nasty remarks. (its my way).
Ill give bad directions so u will never find
The difference between the u's this place.
Raise a glass and bash the skulls out of
Whichever fruits from which this punch weren't made.
What Then, When No Printin in Sight?
Got a cat in the kitchen
And one in the back aint noticed.
My dogs got low glucose,
He shakes.
Mans workin the relative
Orders till just so
That we can afford to sleep
And when im woke
Its guitar blues and basses.
I travel to a tune whilly.
Whew. And never quit
So, when the speakers aint shake
And the floors aint move what then?
Sir buddha, weigh'n on his fists.
Like he watchin a movie. What he
Does when the movie quits?
He may sit in the storehouse
Workin on shit.
He mite lay front a heating grate
Tremoring blind.
He could earn a wage for it-
Who knows, even take a thing
Or two home after a nite.
He cld dance in a mirror to
An unknown fancy & agree.
lang drives i ain't got the blues
ridin in lang's blue broad
/sun-sized iris-ed
my case sets by
whatever's ajar
as he lasts
and we, big eyes.
what lives in the cranny of
his brief, unsubtle pages?
a not-broad statement.
for our state is unusal,
off-road.
for now the bitch works
her blue magic across
ceiling city
GreenPandaPress
14314 Superior Ave.
Cleveland Heights, Ohio 44118
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