TWO POEMS
Frank Giampietro
6 Spandrels
Spandrel: the V-shaped structure formed between two rounded arches… a space underneath the stairs, a blank sort of triangle… an unintended byproduct.—from the NY Times
I tell the pilots how to lay hands on and twist the props that move the great depression machine forward, which is always moving forward, anyway—that's my job. * Very hairless of you she whispered wanting more hair. * In the dream at 30,000 feet the cabin doors open to a space in which there is a clock a radio, two rings my father wore, black and white picture of me when I was young, and of course some cumuli nimbi. * Let's meet at Lake Ella and just ignore the king duck's dark skin tags. * Not so much the ocean but a reasonable facsimile which shows up nightly in your spittle and gives you a real bad dream. * Let's meet tonight on deck. This wind, that hair.
Procrastination
When will I write that poem called Meditation While Scraping the Dried Human Feces from the Bottom of My Son's New Shoe the Day After He Stepped in it in the Family Bathroom at Home Depot While I Was There to Price Wood for my New Backyard Writing Studio?