WHAT THE HELL

Kevin Brennan Writes About What It's Like

Two Poems ~ poetry by David Dobson

New poetry to start off the week at The Disappointed Housewife. Today’s contribution is from a young British poet, which reminds me that we’ve seen a number of pieces so far from writers outside North America. That’s right: The Housewife is an internationally known publication!

The Disappointed Housewife

Sofa Surfer Blues

?I drank myself last night and I tasted of oblivion.
Keep on swinging madly across the sun Mr Dylan,
I could never keep up with you I’m in a war of words
with the verse endless invisible unknowable in my head
riding in on your sofa surfer blues.

?“Poetry is dead!” shouts Poverty of Mind,
but we hear a cold lonely trumpet in the afternoon haze,
conjuring in the air and biting at his claws.
She sits in the lizard lounge with a wire in her brain
telling her what the whispers mean
as she drifts in the stranger’s kitchen Limboland;
we pass on the Road swaying to our sofa surfer blues.

?Our day a long bar pulling slow pints ends
in holding each other on the heath,
Road still rolling by us
she writes letters penned in junk
(ink in the vein swirling hunger)
?“Dear exalted…

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This entry was posted on April 9, 2018 by in Publishing.
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