Sunday with Dave: Poet’s Party

“Poet’s Party”

3.1 and falling, the flightiness of durable goods,
buy and keep, the poets have had their place,
no more rat catcher or silliness I miss you,
but still a child lies locked by its accretions,
the firing up of you may not even own the words,
repeat, next lesson,
perdure, no excuses, even if the cause is in this voice,
the unminded labor that had neither name nor a rhyming rhythm,
we can worship pauses, no ID won’t get you past the door,
but still you can hear a pulse and the faint kissing sitting down,
my lord and master, thank you for letting me forget here,
we are in the tradition,
the reign of God is a scarring peep from supplicants
who can beat off like me,
the families sing let me in,
a ritual, more theology than scripture, still they did it,
and the door opened to smaller portions shared,
but there is no license for less around in the cultural district,
the comedian who finances a beating knows Jesus,
the poor must always be there, he quotes,
how else could we sloven to the directors chair,
some had prawns for the holiday bonus,
others a cheap pen,
to write a degree is a wonder,
but to say merely where you been
is a slander to the task,
truth is a vat of 3rd degree burns
bleaching the apology that I couldn’t bear the script.

© David Arenas 12/24/03

© David Arenas Short Stack Story Time 2015

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