Life preserver
who is carrying us to war
to ward off news
I have stopped up ears
as the first act of hostility
the land is sunk
only the captain found a finite bed
Angry poems
Angry poems — a collection of the best works on Poemship.
Lexicology
the first word was oh
then presently you
is now any better
with my mind full
and vexed
angry words go out
in a dead mouth
Red-lined
a red line
cost me my home
with all the evening music
great as a prayer
Harvester
an absence of red in the war
is a white lie
thin as corn
the bodies of the poor
Dictator
not good about letting others speak
I am sorry for the ice in my head
and heart full of decay
I am sorry for this gun
which makes the hole of power
Child workers
children employed
to supply our flags
dull eyes like organ keys
pressed down
that could not be fixed
to whistle
but otherwise quiet
and will do as bid
the river is a letter
from an unknown hand
Shipping news
all the news now
should go in the same ship with
our knavery and dissimulation
no great fleet
ships like unkissed bodies
nest together at night
take time to rust
Wall Street
a rose in a cell
that is truth to the office
where morning
is a done deal
Border patrol
hours without a witness
how the state and Customs
assess the foreign
how divide and excise
part by part
like the prerogative of the crow
to take any sandwich
with a cheap cry and fright
they kill a story
like a dissembling fanatic
laugh to hear pound
the greatest heart
Warmongers: six haiku
a half-moon
over the maps of several
poor countries
that sullen bastard will go at midnight
take the child and dance it
in his arms
guarded by his horse
the soldier is a flying army
in his head
going to be married
so the rape is hushed up
mouths receive the sacrament
whose bread
would pay for a war
blood on the back stairs
not capable of bearing children
Propagandist
I bled ink for this war
people saw me sing and dance
out of key out of night
the fruit of my endeavors
for all for God for the least
wrong king
Parasitic
a bad night for fleas
the weather cold as winter
all over my body
the poor go out only on Sundays
good-natured about the privileges of power
to itch and tick and eat
at any time
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