The Brooklyn Rail

APR 2014

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APR 2014 Issue
Poetry

Five

ALL THE BOOKS
HOLDING BACK
OUR ENEMIES


my integument
breach is substantial
not to brag
killing off the coastline
I can’t stop myself from
butchering it all
your smell is nice
keep me under your coat awhile
you are warmer than I have ever been
smell better than I have ever smelled
ask anybody outside this
intermediate station of
the waist-high demon
garlands of dead
children for the pentagon
catharsis is a daughter
a son a caterwaul
soon we fall apart we
were hoping to do so
vomit in folders with
the purple tabs
vocabulary after
death has a different
present tense
vowels out of range

 

 

 

 

 

 

CATHODE OF OUR
CONNECTION


instead of a million
dollars this poem is
gratis carrying a pinch
of hair after the
funeral eight of my
eggs deposited in
your coffin you
would approve you
would approve your
voice cracked thermometer
at once a fitted gift thickening as
it calms in the bright demonic firma
a patient tap of light on the shoulder
leaving the gun at home for a change
we came up here like this and now
nothing suits us poems inking our
way back through thickets hoping
the soft breeze coming this
way will let us be loved
no no no
don’t see
me just yet
flickering by
cigarette light

 

 

 

 

 

 

WE ARE GOLD
COINS TURNING
IN SUNLIGHT


a limb of fortune called the
last thing you will know
is rubber it stretches
when I was 47 this morning
my crayons hit a map of
the united states forecasting an
end to self pity and war crimes
how can you stand me
how can you keep
sleeping with me
well I wouldn’t
things are not
what you expected
nor will they ever be again
what it forsakes we bring to
another shoulder
old bones
as in now
not later
coming like this to
the end of the planet
the adhesive my body produces from
too much worry generous amounts to
seal the files for good

 

 

 

 

 

 

CHILDREN KNOW MOUTH OF
FABLE PILOTS THE WAY
TO WOMB SNOUT


he woke with a
cunt instead of a
nose some women walked by pointing
how does that smell they asked
everything smells redundant or
like everything at once
it’s not a super nose it’s
a cunt nose they said
makes me see things
then slow in the throat
now we are arriving
wake in middle of this
poem forged in the encampment
comes with a split sensation
all I ever wanted
was to be tiny
fit in your
pocket
does this
creep you out
sounds like
your problem

 

 

 

 

 

 

ENOUGH COCAINE
FOR A SNOW ANGEL


burning inside the
box is a thinking to
make holes in
a noun
I worry about gravy my body will
produce in the crematorium
is this embarrassment morbid
am I supposed to
apologize I never
know when it’s
time for sorry
I’m tired of fucking around we need
action is that the right thing to need
ebullience of being a lion tonight
I’m coming at you my dear
get the whip get the chair
look scared look scared
no meat no meat
throw me broccoli
throw me kale
green pussy
green green green pussy
I’m gonna be
green pussy

 

 

 

Contributor

CAConrad

CACONRAD is the author of six books including ECODEVIANCE: (Soma)tics for the Future Wilderness (Wave Books, 2014), A BEAUTIFUL MARSUPIAL AFTERNOON (WAVE Books, 2012) and The Book of Frank (WAVE Books, 2010).  A 2014 Lannan Fellow, a 2013 MacDowell Fellow, and a 2011 Pew Fellow, he also conducts workshops on (Soma)tic poetry and Ecopoetics.  Visit him online at http://CAConrad.blogspot.com

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The Brooklyn Rail

APR 2014

All Issues