Poets' Basement: Gaffney, Engel, Davies, Albert

Splitting Wood
by MARK GAFFNEY

Most honorable profession at the point of a blade.
The last pure form.
Song of the slab.
The art of cleavage.
Making chips fly.
Zen in motion:
OK. Stand the blockhead on end, like so.
No teetering! That's it.
Our little champion.
Mr. conservative smarty pants.
Too big for his Republican britches.
One of the hollow men.
Just like his daddy.
Feet wide apart. Knees a little bent.
Heft the shank easy like, fingers loose, never tight.
Don’t squeeze the shaft.
Stay balanced.
Now, address the dodgy son of a bitch:
Mr. President, do you still insist
there were WMD?
OK. OK. Whatever you say.
On your knees!
Find the mark.
We’ll cultivate that little crack.
An opportunity about to happen.
Stay centered.
Up the maul, most excellent tool of all my days.
Razor edge of discrimination.
Hammer of infinite heaven.
Bane of knots and heart rot.
Punk nemesis.
Hewer of the toughest grain.
Instrument of the mighty spheres unbound.
Avenging angel filled with disdain
for you
and all of your cronies and carpetbaggers.
Swift retribution is coming!
Now straight and true
and away with him...
( ! )
Omigod!
With that stroke
we could've thrice cut the deficit.
Pity the poor soul.
See! Look! It flies away…

Mark Gaffney's latest book is Gnostic Secrets of the Naassenes,
released last year by Inner Traditions Press.

"Ready Able Fire"
By ADAM ENGEL

God Bless
(this christian nation
brought to you
by desert nomads from outer space
augured our future in lentils
clung to Essau's beard
-- you can look it up:
read your Koran, your Talmud,
your No One Here Get Out Alive --
Pilgrims in UFOs
Cowboys in Stutz Bearcats:
sorry red injun man
sorry black negro man
sorry yellow asian man
sorry women and children
first in line
fists full of soap
tossed overboard
the Ship of State
can't help you now
apparent misreading
of the roadmap
begetted yet another
SNAFU epic nowhere,
but THEY are everywhere
you've seen THEM, I've seen THEM,
everyone always sees THEM
why won't THEY leave?
Until THEY'RE gone
you'll have to
grin and bear it
elbow grease your hair
tuck "Lucky's"
up your shirt sleeves
genuflect
before the one and only
undisputed heavy-weight
Statue-of-Liberty-turned-Golem
marching off to smite THEM and
every last one of THEM among THEM,
save us all
-- in proper hierarchies of ascent --
from biased prosecution.
So smile and be clean.
Say yer prayers, the pledge, anything
that pops into Brave Leader's mind
and sticks there
-- like maggots in honey
like pigeons in peanut butter
like dinosaurs in tar --
and for godssake remember:
cameras roll all the time now
cameras roll all the time now
cameras roll all the time now
and they just might roll on
over you
so wear your Colors and be Mighty.)

us everyone
-- THEM too, after THEY'RE dead --
amen

Adam Engel can be reached at: bartleby.samsa@verizon.net

How It Was
By ROBERT A. DAVIES

They are sitting in a little room
heads of National Security
CIA and FBI --even
the President, still the cheerleader
pops in for a wink.
“We will all get just what we need
to turn this country around
for good: our kind takes over,
need I draw a picture?
It’s simple: we just let it happen.”

Robert A. Davies can be reached at: rjdavies@spiritone.com

In For Stormy Weather
By STEW ALBERT

Lightning flashing in a neighboring sky
bright and brilliant jags lighting up
a sun filled sunset
meaning business
getting closer
silent bolts
and sometimes not so noticeable
but then rumbling with threatening thunder
getting much noisier.
A brilliant rainbow emerging close enough to touch
the sky becoming light and darkness
seemingly setting a border for the coming assault,
proclaiming even bold storms
of eerie propensity
have their limitation.

Stew Albert runs the Yippie Reading Room his memoir Who The Hell is Stew Albert?, published by Red Hen Press is now available at your local independent bookstore or through Red Hen Press. For a personally autographed copy, please send an e mail at stewa@aol.com