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Wednesday, December 26, 2018

Featuring Colin James

                     WHEN THE LOUNGE LIZARD AD LIBS 

                      Of course we were sitting in
                      the back and witnessed nothing
                      other than the usual head-bobbing.
                      A murmur of silence interrupted
                      and someone blocked the exits.
                      I can't remember much else,
                      a few empty trays of crackers,
                      cheese, I believe there was one
                      apparently larger than life.
                      Unapologetic, held up, arrestingly
                      dutiful. I must have just missed.
                      My duties were mostly outlined in grey
                      a list of could-beisums long
                      including every variant twice
                      or words to live modestly by like
                      don't be a liability to your own space,
                      take it up then wander off.
                      The excluded don't always leave early
                      their attention spans are just shorter.
                      I had folded my coat neatly
                      not knowing where learned,
                      probably a coat folding seminar.
                      Older over achievers again in the back      
                      the ultimate Protestants.
                      Could have been a time killing seminar.
                      If I recall, the wallpaper was astonishing.
                      Gratitude almost in the air
                      then the food emanated
                      or seemed to butt in, appear.


                                 The only passable lane between
                                 two cemeteries,
                                 catholic and protestant,
                                 is littered with unread fliers.
                                 Wouldn't wipe their arse with them,
                                 producing an uncomfortable 
                                 feeling for the rest of the day.
                                 A pile of colorful clothes
                                 that wasn't here yesterday.
                                 I heard a sound of footsteps
                                 like someone running away,
                                 then contrasted discarded appliances.
                                 Dishwashers, fused dryers, left by
                                 these modern disposal experts.
                                 Wistful practitioners of the faith. 

                           ORATORIES THROUGH A WOMB WALL

                          Our hero of the two haircuts
                          one quite puffy on top, the other
                          halfway down the back
                          is prone to goodly Afro pride.
                          Not your Archie or Betty this
                          that's running as fast as can
                          pursued by unpromising paralytics 
                          their uniforms precise and prohibitive.
                          The stench of prosperity, poison
                          tipped spears cha cha cha the air.
                          Origins like formalism throughout.

                             THE ALIGNMENT OF AN ALTRUIST 

                            Standing awkwardly at the Tumorous Pump,                          
                            I was considering my options when
                            a figure approached from my blind side,
                            which is about ninety percent of all reality. 
                            A young man dressed somewhat less than casually
                            insisted I subsidize his present needs.
                            He suddenly paused in his dialog
                            to thoroughly smell the air.
                            His eyes receded, a look of despair traveled
                            the extent of his red blotched face.
                            "You shite! he uttered, thereby
                            disappearing into some overhanging bushes.
                            I was not immediately tempted to join him merely 
                            resumed my quest of ambivalent indifference.

Bio: Colin James has a book of poems, Resisting Probability from 
Sagging Meniscus Press: 
He lives in Massachusetts.

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