dexter zirkle

dexter zirkle is a cleveland poet who once channeled jim morrison to life on stage. he is a talented poet, and an occasional deep cleveland poetry hour regular.

Attention All Resident Maniacs

Attention all resident maniacs
 your home is not here
 under business roof
 and lunch hour zoom
 your home is not here
 for flap mouthed noises
 the voices of your other demons' demons
 for distant, wide eyed stares
 into the absolute nothing
And for you nothing does exist
 except birds with broken wings
 that speak what you speak
 with beak
Large paper strung Moon
 with huge hanging Sun
 and light bulb stars with hidden pull chains
 that the others yank
 when the big God orders the eight o'clock shutdown

Where do you slither when the lights go out?
Across city borders
Leaving sidewinder patterns
 in the crew cut lawns
 of the mighty affluent?
 Or
 do you tunnel under
 grates of sewer
 prying open metal doorways
 of refuse
t o inhabit the shit labyrinth
 which lay under building weight
 and the blanket of street and intersecting avenue?
Your home is not here under mechanical skies
 where clouds are cogs and gears
 caught
 in constant grind

It Was An Astonishing Graveyard Scene

It was an astonishing graveyard scene
The dangers of being located only feet
 from a busy street

A runaway car with an unknown driver
 had erupted through iron gate fencing
 that had surrounded the once sacred site

Ghosts were thrown from their stones
 like jettisoned pilots from a doomed aircraft
Although already passed
 they held their head
 and attempted to collect themselves
 with a look of ultimate surprise
 written upon their hazy gray-white faces

Even the dead can be shaken
 and wonder

The car had torn through four small headstones
 imitating a bullet
 boastfully tearing
 through flesh, muscle, bone
Must've belonged to children
 trying to rest
 and come again
 when its their turn to jump on eternities carousel
 for one more ride

The final stop of this mad vehicle was a thick granite stone
 elaborate and covered with accomplishments
This someone must've been a somebody
He seemed to have mastered everything
 except
 the art of how not to die
It looked to be anchored
 to the center of the earth
 and cost more than any car I've ever driven
It was glossy and ornate
 rosy
 pristine
 more than this it looked
 dreadfully solid

 dense and courageous
His death had more class than my life
Who says you can't take it with you?

Until, I Too, Turn Ghost

The birds cry

widowed
from their partners.

Larking
Finching
as if to let everyone know

"I once shared flight
with a magic
roaming
spirit
whose love song I shall sing
until,
I too,
turn ghost
and
float
unhindered
past kingdoms made of clouds
and skies that shed no light
where stars begin to shimmer
when lovers meet again?"