a beat poem for you from my book

I’m working on this book of beat poems…

Here’s a selected work to whet or perhaps drench your literary appetite:

Hello There!
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.

Parakeet, dingo.
Wigwam, Tulsa.
Doorbell, Santa Klaus..

Trinket, Infinity.
Mambo, Radar.

Djimbe, Incense.
Frost, Paine…
Thomas, Theodora.
Lanky, Doberman.

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,
Found crystallized-
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.
Surprise!

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-
expressway.

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,

surreptitiously.

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.

Flying cats,
accolades.

Japanese tiny boxes, marzipan filling.
Mexican pastry, soup for 12.
Finality of prose.