John Beer - Two Poems
night scales
Now the dark veil of night slipped
away, the pod of a plant, what remained
hidden. She had on a shroud, like a veil.
I stepped up my self-education.
Stepped toward the doula. Auto day
tentatively opened. Gene’s taxi
underlay the cinnamon sky. And
nowhere to be found. From the deck
dispatches, even one with wings
seemed stuck in the zone, birth’s
cacophony down among an idling
horde of drivers. So it’s John
wants a word? Or wait, I’m
easily mistaken for my own
roguish story, a ton of material,
zested, riced, issued: Christ, who’s
under macaroni, and again I dunno
fatherhood, or, oy, simply hearing
any account at the right moment.
Say it again. “The profit roots.”
Say it again. “The prophet’s route.”
Let her finish her point
I always say this
go ahead, say it again
I always say this, but I’ll
say it again, I’m just going to
say it again, meanwhile
I have said that, I’ll say it
again, I’m going to say it
again, let her finish her point, I’ll say it
just once, then I’ll say it again,
but I’m going to say it
again, I’m not going to
say it again, and we should say it again,
you’ve heard me before, I just have to
say it again, let her
finish her point, I have said this before,
go ahead, you can say it again,
I say it again when the cold wind blows,
okay, okay? should I say it again
I’m sorry, say it again, can’t remember,
we never I don’t know who
I’ll just have to say it again, let me
finish my point I don’t know who
you just said I’m not going to say it again
but I’m going to say it I like that
I’m not going to say it again
but I’m going to say it I like that
I like that thank you, I’ll
say it again, just once, but you’ve heard me before
we should say it again, let her
finish her point go ahead
I mean, you can say that again I’m sorry
don’t say that again I mean, you can say that
again I’m sorry don’t say that again
let me say that again, okay, okay? can’t remember
we never I don’t know who
you just said I’m not going to say that again
if you say that again I will
say that again I’m sorry
you heard me can we say that again
I never want you to say it again
I like that I like that
thank you
English logs off, Katie taking no gigs,
no grammatical track, hardly the time,
dear, seven assemblages tazing
empty temples, hairy Simon crying
rough and peaceful threnodies,
go take a look, it’s stretching over,
out from artificial ion clouds,
this little widget a nail in the wrist,
this little passage the last lion gate.
Assume that you went to a lion gate Mycenae on an evening.
Assume that you went to an Ishtar gate Babylon.
Assume that you issued alone, heading toward the extremest dark appearance of the sun.
Assume that the waters flowed forth as if to receive you.
What an ego. I own a knee, a delphic
oracle moaning, okay, sing together.
And the economics of it. In the thlips
begin, okay, in these thlips a king,
everlasting hype of money an issue,
right? becoming empty need, so
good, so luminous, please let me
empty the island: the word already
faded. Oh god. And the material issue,
altogether breathy in the message,
his day cake sounds pissed. My voice
returns, big, like Sal Pigeon, crying,
“I’m in the mood to write,
simply because there’s a book here,
to send you a tank wouldn’t work, dear,
when the amphitheater starts to fall
apart…” Did I dabble in cane,
could I lead you through the gate,
his thighs a terror, and lightly evading
Sardi’s, we’d rather be in Philadelphia,
truly. Sha la la, sha la la la. Cape
drop. Oh, look it up.
in case you didn’t
have a chance look it up
do your homework look it up
if you’re interested
she regarded the birds
apparently amazingly
check it out look it up
if you want to do it
look it up and find me
thanks I’ll make a note of that
a little more than I bargained for
you can look it up I would tell you
my mom would build a fire
but you can look it up
on the internet look it up
I saw the problem
exactly look it up
in case you didn’t notice
I don’t think you should say
you should look it up
yourself thanks I’ll make a note of that
go ahead go look it up
I already saw the symptoms
well they can look it up it’s crazy
remember that if you care you will have to
look it up but I can always
look it up apparently
amazingly
in case you didn’t hear me I already saw
some guys I saw them yelling at her
well go ahead look it up you can always
do your homework it isn’t supposed
to be easy why don’t you look it up
to be honest I was going to
thanks I’ll make a note of that sorry that’s not
what happened the words blurring together
she regarded the birds I kept meaning
to look it up in case you didn’t see it
in case you didn’t notice oh please I always
say it I can always say it again
in case you didn’t realize
I saw myself on the road
I saw my voice
angling out toward someone, toward
some lovely emu rancher, and oh, look
right at seven loony golden mesas.
Eventually, the lucky, like the sun itself,
take a bunch of people into the demon
toes, the demonstrative toes, and
except perusal on the part of those men,
nothing for your mastiff, zoning belt,
double gold. In my head is his
evil car, and look at, look at, look at
anything else, thou woolen hero.
Upload white snow, and fiery
careworn ophthalmologists. My pyre
hit your foot. Something like that.
Independence Night
Old Timer: This is the seventh time they tried to reopen.
The last time must have been in 84,
Or shit, it might have even been 76,
The bicentennial year.
Ronnie: I wasn’t born yet.
Griff: None of us were, ya goofball. But hang on,
You said this is the seventh time they tried.
What happened the other six?
Keisha: Griff, don’t ask that.
I don’t feel like I want to know the answer.
Old Timer: Don’t worry, miss, it’s not a government secret,
Though come to think it, maybe it oughtta be.
Each time they opened up the site, it seems
They had some funny incidents. I guess
Money might have been an issue, too.
But mostly, people talk about the sounds.
Keisha: The sounds? What kind of sounds?
Ronnie: I hear a sound:
That’s Casey leaning on the horn outside.
We’d better go. Thanks Pops.
Old Timer: Enjoy your stay.
my friends did you hear that already
losing interest it wasn’t so surprising
in case you didn’t know already a bit of a backlog
people just want to hear that hear that they’re
not alone sounds what kind of sounds
the noise was coming from Monday
the sound the waves of laughter
so just enjoy your stay relax
my friends they were doing so well
already losing interest people just want to
show them it slowly dawned on me
it’s the language it’s the time
of year I want to see my friends relax
enjoy your stay just like everyone predicted
it really came as a surprise in case you
live in a cave people just like to
hear that the bombs had nothing to do
already a bit of a circus sounds what
kind of sounds relax just take it easy
force yourself if you
have to already losing focus
the sound the waves of dizziness look up
if you have to just like I could have
predicted they seemed to be doing so well
no problem enjoy your stay thank you I’ll
remember that a ragged hiss a scraping
did I say that already you’re repeating yourself
in case you haven’t noticed in case you live
in a box it’s the climate well everybody
likes to already a bit of a problem
you might as well keep going
don’t look back enjoy your stay
Assume that you went to a lion gate Mycenae all by yourself on an evening.
Assume that you issued alone.
Assume the extremest appearance of the dark sun, your bandaged eyes, your newly appointed hearing.
We begin to approach the center.
My brass calques yourn. Who’s been takin?
Frickin Camino. People poem, many men
interpellating just as many femme. Kay,
no one said this phone’s for you. Oughtn’t
say, the phone rings, idiot of crowds,
the phone rings it’s your boss
the phone rings it’s Mama on the line
the phone rings she jumps it’s Sid
taking equals having, right, let’s party,
except this one gets an asterisk, seventh,
right in the stomach. A single-edged sword,
now that’s a piece of rhetoric, sharp as oxy,
what comes out of your face, hope it’s not
one a those Iliadic catalogs, funny in the
ha-ha dynamite car.
and then the phone rings
you can see it then the phone rings
you can look it up then the phone rings
and it’s Mama on the line you’re starting to repeat
yourself not that cute not that young
you’re starting to draw patterns
whenever you sit down and then
the phone rings what’s your problem
you’re starting to draw a picture you can look it up
go ahead then the phone rings and it’s Gordy it’s your boss
it’s my roommate and I go, hey Paul you’re starting to
ask questions whenever you lie down
I kind of want to say it again you’re starting to
draw pictures wherever you sit down and then the phone
rings and it’s Gordy it’s your boss it’s Mama you’re starting to
freak me out not that young not so professional
you can look it up why not you can say that again
please don’t I won’t say that again, Paul
whenever you go out the phone rings
it’s the police the phone rings and it’s Lila you’re starting to
wonder what happened a muffled sound, a thump
did you hear that again please don’t
I won’t say that again, Paul he’s my roommate
and I go, hey Paul you’re starting to annoy me not so cute
not so clever and then the phone rings you can
hear them whenever you lie down
you can look it up why not wherever you
find yourself you’re starting to draw patterns then the phone rings
and it’s Lila and it’s Gordy it’s my roommate
you’ve started to wonder what happened and then
the phone rings in the car
The car hides peyote,
nor will they fall upon thy feet, being dead,
even as the ethics of the right sound makes
nobody sick. Don’t worry, baby, I’m the first
decaying agent, isn’t life okay. Becoming dead
isn’t looking like life, so I’m the first
evasive agent, the asshole’s asshole,
and I have the dead man’s key, adieu!
don’t write me what you see, write
letters that look like you, or better honey,
everything that looks like honey glistens,
rough talk, but something’s coming after this.
Utterly mysterious, like seven asterisks
never saw your right muck, seven
ducky goldy seven asterisks, angels,
for seven assemblages I am so lucky,
so lucky this time so hopelessly lucky
they weren’t so lucky so lucky and blessed
so lucky to know you so lucky, I mean
just so lucky to be alive this time
they weren’t so lucky I truly feel lucky
utterly seven seven assemblages I am.
Cut. Angelo puts together more writing,
hundredth episode. This is the crate story,
took seven asterisks in a crate, stowed
less of them—fewer of them— in the
open care of the right open car. Walked
south. In the middle I saw seven golden,
golden, golden, golden ducks. I know
enough to tell you when it’s working,
hell, these were golden, golden, golden,
never mind. I am a bad bastard.
Idiot of Crowds
I saw myself on the road, my sole companion
a purple toothbrush, and me just in my undies.
Elsewhere the scaffolding surrounded a vast dog,
its paws surging madly into the whirlpool.
The mouth opened, and a thin line of people
crept warily into the arena. A terrible porter,
one part bat phlegm, two parts water,
sponsored the squalor. It said nothing,
repeatedly, such that from that mental emptiness
a cult slowly came into formation, as a cup
might emerge from potter’s clay. Engulfed
in tongues of moderate flame, they stood,
occasionally chanting. My shoulder hurt.
Still, friendly rats submerged the condos,
ministers tossed hulks toward the passing skiff.
One waggish priest unveiled a skiff
and hurled it toward the hulk. Some call it
senior jam. But crude green gods get older.
Now folks were standing up, their mothers
beside them, leaking from the corporation.
And as they gave their notice, each one
with her father or with his, they waxed
heroically poetic, like it was all a big wedding.
That young rogue over there, in the red shirt,
rented cabins on the parting shore. At first
autumn with a subtle chill sets leaves loose
to twirl onto tablecloths or empty planters,
or else the gurgling ground thrusts up
and gloms onto an unsuspecting bird,
a clutch of twittering birds, as the freezing
year descends. I went across the ocean,
my family sent me apricots. Today, among you,
I can stand and speak, transmit prime numbers,
curse, even hold my lover’s shoulder
in my hands. But sad is the boat
when the nun has shrunk from her sister
and stallions in the arena pine for summer.
The Art of the Deal
Park Place
two-car garage
A New Hope
spoons
metonym
introduction
undocumented
less with more
déjà vu
wish list
getting right with God
a long national nightmare
spotting
Manhattan, Kansas
Jack White
Orrin Hatch
Tolstoy
the last American hero
toy boat
shark sandwich
looking good
hit the streets
Adderall
ftp
creative destruction
Richard III
Bill O’Reilly
Schwitters screed
Joy Division
exagmination
Just Like Heaven
Texan backers
lesser evil
nine lives
Birth of a Nation
zombotron
global warming
Ray’s Famous Pizza
Charlottesville
spoken
lowball
Asbury Park
gasoline fumes
magic kingdom
Steve Bannon
snocone
legend
no dice
malice
gecko
chewing gum
hothead
tendril
lemon
Phyllis Diller
shout it out
glue gun
poptop
Lana Lang
murder
passing by
understand
popsicle stick
earthquake
resending
Audre Lorde
window shade
stereo
Manassas
dressing down
Rosenkrantz
syntax
A Place in the Sun
Rex Harrison
double binds
nail clipper
Strad
strobe
“I’m Your Man”
candlestick
solar eclipse
Tony Danza
hearty
arty
too soon
party
cadenza
dotty
treehouse
search engine
lookalike
Bullwinkle
Merrick Garland
a heavy hand
itching
pigeon
Miracle Whip
Andy Kaufman
infinite
football
tragedy
travesty
nostalgia
John Mitchell
sand dollar
intermission
Amiri Baraka
piped in
emic
binary
slotting
Kryptonite
ludic
liberty
first thought
water
listing
bass line
objection
rhumba
clone wars
ocean
latex
people
birdsong
business
Marianne Moore
Dürer
Vegas
production systems
Mr. T
Judith Butler
“Here Comes the Sun”
rhythm
concept
Capri pants
single scoop
Titanic
widget
no way out
periscope
ectomorph
Pride of the Yankees
Harryette
White Light, White Heat
castanets
blue bayou
listening
Babel
libel
footloose
zlotl
bassinet
rial
lariot
amber
sandy
crackers
liquor
bunkum
prudence
jouissance
primary colors
taking a walk
buckling in
Cat on a Hot Tin Roof
Firefly
lend me your ears
breaks
slacks
tsunami
fascist
bedtime
good time
any time
morning
nostalgia
Wildlife Fund
Hatfield
Hong Kong
Ephraim
La Jolla
out of sight
white room
braiding
breading
reader
scribe
gaga
trendspotting
SEO
Oreo
Old Yeller
Bitcoin
Quantico
Norman Rockwell
Doc Martin
Lindsay Lohan
umbra
dianetics
topos
Cicero
Community Chest
mainstream
Haagen Dazs
editing
follow your heart
night train
Viola
Blizzard of Ozz
Victoria
pendulum
Minute Maid
Cus D’Amato
babke
Balboa
sunny side
Reading Railroad
oligarchy
Hennessy
crest
top off
mugwump
Sag Harbor
Damascus
fait accompli
looking glass
paper of record
sharpshooter
ship
shower
stripping
slipping
smoking gun
heritage
hit the wall
lipogram
earth angel
water moccasin
elements
no future
present tense
fission
looser
great again
fake news
candid
rancid
Jared
democracy
gratuity
for
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Mediterranean Avenue
one-horse town
an old dope
forks
metaphor
shutting down
unprecedented
company store
nostalgia
hate read
getting tight with Rod
The Country’s Best Yogurt
spitting
Manhattan Project
Jack Black
Captain Kangaroo
Dostoyevski
the first American zero
troy boat
shit sandwich
feeling bad
fitted sheets
Percocet
dmz
earthly paradise
Henry V
Father Coughlin
Twitter feed
New Order
factification
Highway to Hell
Russian hackers
greater good
twenty lashes
the dream will never die
too far gone
factory farming
Chichen Itza
Nuremburg
token
highball
Mulholland Drive
algae blooms
talking horse
Steve Buscemi
ringtone
map
no shoes
palace
GEICO
baseball card
cold shoulder
vine
lime
Dennis Miller
keep it quiet
silver bullet
power bottom
Loretta Lynn
redrum
threatening sky
overwhelm
Jesus Christ
sheet cake
pretending
Ezra Pound
St. Patrick’s Day Parade
double vision
Bull Run
salad days
Guildenstern
semantics
“Head like a Hole”
Rex Tillerson
inquiring minds
wood chipper
Vlad
globe
death to the Klan
rope
mushroom cloud
tiny dancer
heady
eddy
tulips
Freddy
cadence
Dante
Tribeca
search party
roundabout
Rocky
Neil Gorsuch
a light touch
etching
religion
mayonnaise
Emo Phillips
endless
soccer
comedy
constitution
déjà vu
Joni Mitchell
silverback
station identification
LeRoi Jones
aired out
etic
p-adic
slitting
spinach
Luddite
freedom
last laugh
life
lasting
face time
subjection
roomba
drone wars
desert
skin
population
beeswax
pleasure
Pinky Toscadero
Grünewald
Corbusier
connectionism
Robert E. Lee
Joss Whedon
“Space Is the Place”
meter
object
Capri Sun
double dipping
Lusitania
Bridget
two way mirror
Pere Ubu
endomorph
curse of the billy goat
Bernadette
Can’t Stop the Music
cassowary
grey gulch
Listerine
Scrabble
Liberace
point break
tchotchke
chocolate
liar
chariot
hombre
somber
crickets
Triscuits
Podunk
prune juice
vichysoisse
secondary senses
walking a runner
backing out
Dog Day Afternoon
Buffy
give me a hand
freaks
flakes
souvlaki
carrot
bonzo
gonzo
Alonzo
Electra
déjà vu
Wrestling Federation
McCall
Macau
Menassah
Chula Vista
Ottawa
waiting room
fading
feeding
lectrix
vibe
lulu
trainspotting
REO
Hydrox
new black
Bitburg
Kokomo
George Lincoln Rockwell
Don Martin
Marilyn Monroe
penumbra
diuretics
nomos
Tully
Chance
fringe
Frusen Glädjé
Redditing
show me the money
right brain
Olivia
Bridge of the Gods
Victor
shadow
second class
Al D’Amato
latke
Cortez
shady lane
Pennsylvania Avenue
Olive Garden
Harvey’s Bristol Cream
zest
bottom out
Brexit
Bend
Boring
work in progress
hearing aid
person of interest
dull blade
sheep
plover
strapping
slapping
pee tape
hokum
punch the clock
liposuction
dust devil
sandal
compounds
no past
prison sentence
misprision
lesser
hate again
real people
conned
Ronnie
Subway
Hindenburg
tip