19 November 2008

zach king-smith

Lorca's grave
zach king-smith

Lorca's grave
is getting dug up

Died in the

Shot by
Franco's bullets.

Leave dead
poets alone.

Half-Ass Elegy
Thinking of
my mother &
her tenderness
it's hard to imagine
her eyes and mouth
which has been said
by many that I have.

But ghosts don't
have that skin and
bone which crafts
the appearance of
a face.

so it's hard
to imagine her face
though our eyes
met once.

"Low Culture"
The sidewalk is
a carefully crafted
mosaic of the low
down life.

There are cigarette
butts & bottle caps
among the cracks
with the occasional
chewing gum
wrappers left
inside by blue
eyed children
who have never
heard of Warhol
because there is
no pop art in elementary
school art classes just
the classics.

So it's a collaboration
of many big-nosed
bums and children
living out on
the side walks &
the bums are real
surreal types with
big Picasso cubist
eyes and misplaced
hands and mouths.

Some day the
true art in this
world will be

She wore a short
red dress that
barely covered
her milky-junk thighs.

Her legs were
long and slender
leading up miles
from high-heeled

She walked with
such a sexual intensity
that was raw and
almost bestial.

When she walked
her ass swayed along
behind her with a
confidence that
would scare away
any man.

Her eyes gleamed
and warned of great
despair a few inches
above her mouth
that i never saw
her open.

I just kept walking
head bent to the pavement
because woman like that
are death

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