I’m working on this book of beat poems…
Here’s a selected work to whet or perhaps drench your literary appetite:
How are you dear soul?
I am most excellent,
as I hope that when your eyes,
find these words- most excellent-
is the state that you’re in.
Doorbell, Santa Klaus..
Adorable gaggle of baby geese,
Half eaten bowl of ice-cream,
A spat of shepherd’s pie,
A dingo has spit in my eye,
Formaldehyde in an ancient jar,
In sub-basement’s domain;
All was quiet when the jar appeared.
Notice did anyone save for my eyes?
Apparently not! For it was,
Discovery all forth mine eyes.
Cats, drill-bits, are not equilateral triangles.
Soju is not a type of fruit.
To Kill a Mockingbird, would be shameful.
However, if ’twas a mockingbird;
An excellent work you’ve just read!
Elephants, elephants, elephants!
A parade of technicolor lights, and lamps, dot the-
Vibrantly dressed clowns dance in the streets.
Gas lamps flickr atop ancient columns,
San Francisco, New York, Philadelphia, Boston-
Seattle, Pittsburgh. All had these at the turn,
of the century.
And what a romantic touch they must have been-
when they were not- setting things on fire,
For these modern times, we are told that an unattractive and oft,
alien looking shade of white will have to suffice-
‘specially if it happens to,
come whence forth- an iconic,
nor Doric, or ionic,
and unsightly cement pebbled type apparatus.
To knock one over,
whether on purpose, or accident-
is wholly contingent upon a very,
large fine. Something to the tune,
of 2,000 large.
Japanese tiny boxes, marzipan filling.
Mexican pastry, soup for 12.
Finality of prose.