dirtyrice

listen to me,

what straightened me out

was rain and shame

and the anti of both:

trees and darting streams.

My neighbor is so much

fatter now than before his mother died.

He must have swallowed something whole,

Toledo or his Motown album collection.

I cut his grass now

since he refuses me conversation;

two teenage girls, we are, caught

in the air, rolling our eyes

to all objections.

Pick from his porch the Kroger

circulars, wet and wrong like drunken fathers,

each discernible  sales event

bleeds through to the wood porch.

When I was a child there existed no

fat people. Then the food got fucked up.

Then the butter, wasn't,

only lighter and spreadable now;

more workable, like racism

more user friendly like drone warfare,

and i'm thinking of the cow in Russia that fell

in the septic hole and 9 firefighters

worked for three hours to free her. Poor

cow.

Cities burned under Stalin,

poetry was banned if it didn't adhere

to socialist realism, even if the poems

of dying cows can somehow transform

fate,

even if they make the intransigent outer 

circumstances, something workable,

softened.

Reviews

[Tree]

If ideas or thoughts were composed of atoms, if "poetry" were to find itself on the Periodical table one of these days, you and this poem would be sitting right between osmium, and iridium. Just heavy, with ideas. A drenched, sweaty poem... You wring out a lot of life /philosophy in the piece, d. I love the way your mind works, the associations it composes, these crazy melodies Huge colorful-visions, and depth. Lots of depth. Thank you for sharing your mind with us

Outstanding piece.

Diego

[Jill Reidy]

I'm terrible at writing reviews. I love this poem, I can see it's a great work. I roll the words around my mouth, I visualise the scenarios, i devour it whole, but I don't know how to analyse it. Sometimes I just like something and can see it has deep meaning. Great work, that's all I can say.

[Marie Anzalone]

We get ever further removed from our roots, from the ground that sustains us. We anthropomorphize everything but human beings now. We want our edges smooth, softened. Life to be comfortable, safe. Disneyifed versions of events. We want our cholesterol wathced for us, the pil that replaces hard feflection and listening to intuition, we want loss softened into a custard maybe that we can eat without having to chew. And then we wonder why meaning comes so elusive a character, slips out unnoticed when we have our focus on the tv.

Great work, my friend. as always.

[Beccy]

Have we lost, or perhaps chosen to ignore what really matters? Probably so.

Every ten seconds in this world a child dies of hunger, a stray dog, with that certain look in its eyes has more chance of a full belly.

Beccy.

[h d e rushin]

so true beccy..And thats the role of the poet in this world. To reestablish or reinscribe in a newread moreso true beccy..And thats the role of the poet in this world. To reestablish or reinscribe in a new
and especially stronger form and context; to say, like we use to, what really matters...

thanks for your insight....dana

[John Destalo]

You have something to say and you know how to say...the perfect combination. I love when someone can say something very specific (like Kroger) and make it feel universal. I really enjoyed this piece.

[writing mojo]

I'm thinking of the mad British occupancy of India Shiva and a golden calf archery..what was sacred has lead to the fast service..slaughtered to satisfy catholic mass quality..excellent piece

[W.k.kortas]

The wise Diego, not surprisingly, is onto something here; this is weighty, powerful stuff, picking up its density slowly, subtly, like a tiiny palm-sized snowball rolls into the base-block of a snowman. This piece starts with a humorous tone, the cranky neighbor who may have eaten Toledo (a meal only a glutton for punishemt could bear), with the imagery becoming darker until we are presented with the prospect of life and art under Stalin, a man who could teach the Islamic State a thing or three about laying waste to thousands upon thousands of ones compatriots. We are presented with, perhaps, a microcosm of how evil creeps upon us subtly, stealthily until it and we are too far gone to notice. Yes, weighty.

[The Twin Arenas]

holy s**t! this is so great!

[Delmar Cooper]

Minds work by comparison, you know what I mean? Little mental similies that get you from "A" to 26 bit by bit. Well, you don't remind me of nothing I've ever seen. Original.