joshua gage
poet joshua gage is a
pepper pike resident & a regular at the deep cleveland
poetry hour. you can buy 'break the slow kill,' his 7-track poetry
cd for $5.00 incl. shipping and handling. e-mail pottygok@yahoo.com
or write:
Seven Beers and a Hedgehog Press
2568 SOM Center Rd.
Pepper Pike, OH 44124
Tupilak in Amber
Angels play the warrior's handicap
cosmos crazy, sins of wings.
Time goes round, each second
a way shine drips down sparks,
but not sex. I am dripping
in the backed hair and gingham cowboy
fellaheen outlets of solid color haloes
like a man in houndstooth and coonskin cap.
Beast dreamt behemoth broke
solo like a clock as though it were on roads
of light--the shine of holy ideal auras.
Patience is following its virtue in the footsteps
of short-sleeved collars stuffed
with a hint of dripping righteous symphony.
Drink the sap of twigs unbundled,
Rabid Beast,
froth a miscarriage from wives and flesh
of ears and auras of false neuron sodder.
I clean my boy from unholy crowns.
He is ten bulls.
I am saints with slicked denim,
northwest anger,
and art, thick and permanent.
Tupilak in Charred Bone
Midnight melts across you,
animal wailing and pawing
raised up into bruised scars
off your body so wounded.
Its points carve out like flesh
pouring down your throat
to finger free orgasm, complete
with side effects. Only
this burning
bridge is forged in blood
and quick minutes of sacrifice.
I conjure a beast of bone
and sinew eager to tear into
your pale canvas of flesh.
Ground into bleeding, just
Consider this art--puberty
and neurons, even your insides
cave. The ashes stick in your
lightshow and slaughter
your past with tears. But
mild disappears and comes
up a beast to rise fleshless
with eyes across you like
sanguinary tracks--
a reclaimation nightmare.
It rides chiseled--cremated
angel's gut from a burning
numbness, lost and wild
against you like a wide and ripe
dull needle sewing agony alone
Tupilak in Autumn Wood
Step lively, Oh Ultimate Forest,
reaching up with red pull from
their bark. Race through you,
man, through the grass. Tread
softly over the heavens cool
finger roots to massage out your soul.
Climb your flesh, sinking deep
leaves of our naked soil
between your toes. Swing on
the thick branches as though you
unfurl like ferns and float, sinking
waist deep in the earth. Let
your veins loose on the air were
wind. Let your fingers into the
ground. Then simply fall
off the forest floor.
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