He tells me I'm crazy, turns
up the tv, when I say...
Maybe Elvis really is loitering
by the sliced ham and bacon
but we're too scared to peek
through the fourth dimension to see.
I wonder aloud if spammers are aliens,
trying to make binary contact,
if souls of the dead still can make love,
and if trees ever cry in the dark.
Thoughts unfurl through
my brain nightly, set loose
by the storm of awakening.
He asks me what does it matter-
these endless questions without
answers. He inquires if our
insurance will cover a shrink.
I shrug, use my toes as a rosary,
imagine quarks eating dead skin
and wonder if Copernicus would still
declare my head round after consulting
with Einstein on time, space and pi square.
Published in The Dead Mule, Spring Issue 2007
Artwork: Kim by Craig
This poem jumped out at me for its originality. While it appears to
be a light weight subject it is rich in imagery and dares to take
some risks. I think that surprising a reader and using humor in
poetry is really underappreciated.
Click on his name to visit Craig's fascinating site.
His style ranges from realistic to expressionistic
This poem took first place in the November 2004 Poetry Board League
Competition, Judge's comments are below:
This poem satisfies on a few levels. The narrator is a dreamer( and
most poets can identify with dreaming) and happily so (she shrugs
off her partner's judgments) and shares her diverse and highly
entertaining whimsy with us. The imaginative meanderings are treats,
all by themselves. There's a sort of frenetic spilling of "her
awakening" which makes one wonder just how far it will go. And
the title, to me, was a bit of an ominous betrayal of the
lighthearted tone of the poem. That niggling little doubt, the
subtext of this poem, is: perhaps, just perhaps . . . she really
might be shrink bait . . . 'what if her partner is right,' what if .
.. thus giving us another dimension to the work. I like when there
are no foregone conclusions. I like the spirit of open-mindedness,
creativity, seeking, and a bit of fearlessness . . . but I also love
that humility that
says . . . 'oh, I suppose I could be wrong or crazy or out of step
with the world . . . and this little poem seems to pull that
together rather nicely.
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