Thursday, September 30, 2010

numbers

THE ARTICLE:
“Prime Number”
September 19, 2010

THE POEM:
numbers

25-34 is the range
8.4 is the percent increase
more than 40% and under 11,161 are two inequalities
14.3 is another percent
1 over 5 is a fraction that scares me
many is an adjective to describe the number people
frustrated is another adjective to describe those same people
carrying bundles of 1 over 5 in their hungry arms
1994 is a year now surpassed in unpleasant terms
as a result of an unfortunate series of events

Wednesday, September 29, 2010

name

THE ARTICLE:
“An Artist’s Alfresco John Hancock”
by Colin Moynihan
September 18, 2010

THE POEM:
name

eight mile drip
in units of orange
blips and drizzle along
units of pavement and gravel
—a signature across Manhattan
from pigeon eye’s view
to show the children of my children
in another thirty-five years
if too many exhales stacked
on top of other exhales
don’t erode the sound of a name
written out loud
—if not we will lay our
purple footprints
across the ground
and make hand prints
in the air spelling
our names in city love


Testing

THE ARTICLE:
“Cartoonist in Hiding After Death Threats”
by Brian Stelter
September 17, 2010

THE POEM:

I am too nervous to post the poem I wrote in response to this article.

Title

THE ARTICLE:
“Jon Stewart Plans to Rally Against Extremism”
by Bill Carter
September 16, 2010

THE POEM:
Title

I was going to write
this poem about
the middle way
between two points
of extremity
like two ends of the
national mall
full of reflections
dominating the pixels
we digest every day
but I was busy.

Center

THE ARTICLE:
“Phys Ed: Can Exercise Make Kids Smarter?”
by Gretchen Reynolds
September 15, 2010

THE POEM:
Center

at the center of my
eight year old’s brain
a depressed basal ganglia
at the center of my
eight year old’s brain
a withering hippocampus
at the center of my
eight year old’s body
a stomach in five folds
at the center of my
eight-year-old’s face
a nose that smells sugar
from a mile away
at the center of my
eight year old’s legs
in absentia knees
at the center of my
eight year old
entirely too much

Contaminated

THE ARTICLE:
“Confessing to Crime, but Innocent”
by John Schwartz
September 14, 2010

THE POEM:
Contaminated

contaminated words
that lie I did it
that sway to
harsh lights and
angular stares
mean folds of skin that
tick the back of your neck
so it tilts forward in an
up and down nod
that says yes
hijacks your lips and
shapes them into words
like It was me

don’t have to be mentally ill
don’t have to be young

just tired or
confused or
something
because harsh lights and lies
are an incriminating
combination and
you’re hungry they came
before you had breakfast and it’s
gotten pretty late
so you’re having trouble remembering
things straight
so they start to
tilted along
axes that slope downwards
away from how you
used to remember them
away from the shapes
time and space and God
gave them and into
stencils and molds that
they made sometimes
maliciously sometimes not
but contaminated
all the same

Tuesday, September 28, 2010

Out

THE ARTICLE:
“Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell, Don’t Be All You Can Be”
by Jonathan Hopkins
September 13, 2010

THE POEM:
Out

Out out out
This blood on my hands that’s not blood
Out out out
This feeling in my chest
Out out out
of a home fourteen months after
I came out out out
It was an honorable discharge clarify
when people ask
I like it when they ask
like it when people ask anything

Three roundtrips for
Three bronze stars for
31 years until
a boyfriend
out in Alaska

Never mind that judge in California—
Questions are dangerous things
still even it’s somewhat no matter
and the biggest matter all at once

I am defined:
My eyes are blue
My shoulders are wide
My heart beats for
other men

When they put blacks on the front lines
When they put women in camouflage and boots—
Remember the surveys the fillintheblanks
The piecharts and scatterplots
That didn’t spell out
Group Cohesion along the line of best fit
It was just the right thing to do

dismember it but don't
dishonor my body

I run up a hilltop
at capital speed
undefined by a pair of blue eyes
a pair of broad shoulders
a heart that beats for
other men

Engineers

THE ARTICLE:
“Engineering Terror”
by David Berreby
September 12, 2010

THE POEM:
Engineers

(0.35) (the whole wide world’s) pointer fingers
can point to the framed square on the wall
that says I can make things explode
with the right marriage
of matter n noggin

that’s 0.35 x [the communists + the anarchists + and other forward looking people]
wanting to change things
not kamikaze kick n punch them
to the ground

but one over five
twenty out of a dollar’s cents and
0.2 times 404 violent Islamic group members
have certificates hanging on the wall
that say I can officially
screw nuts n bolts
and cross the right wires to
ka-boom or ka-pow a
death or death situation


Black and Blue

THE ARTICLE:
“Muslims and Islam Were Part of Twin Towers’ Life”
by Samuel G. Freedman
September 11, 2010

THE POEM:
Black and Blue

aleikum salaam times seventeen on the seventeenth floor
of a building about to fall down
from men in suits blue and black
Muslim bodies not yet black and blue

It is a shame, shame, shame

knees on cardboard
tablecloths on concrete
facing a minaret across the sea
that reaches to the sky
the same way the walls around them
reach up to a morning sky
about to turn grey in
misguided smoke

a spiritual coffee break
from trading at the center of the world

It is a shame, shame, shame

Monday, September 13, 2010

log cabin fulls

THE ARTICLE:
“Judge Rules That Military Policy Violates Rights of Gays”
by John Schwartz
September 10, 2010

THE POEM:
log cabin fulls

direct deleterious effect
on a body begging to tell
the things it can’t be asked
according to a
president who
wishes he had had that
same policy for matters of
the extramarital
intern-al type
which is
un-wethepeople of us
according to
our friends out west
for now being gay
in Portuguese
in a private letter
is still a
no-go zone
and three tour
treks through
Iraq-ian
deserts
are a hellno-go
when Ian
back home
wants you there
with him
but soon
there will be
log cabin fulls of
men and women
having big gay
undivided
dance parties with
Abraham Lincoln
on the battlefields
of our enemies

ImaN

THE ARTICLE:
“Video and Latest Updates on Koran Burning Cancellation”
by Robert Mackey
September 9, 2010

THE POEM:
ImaN

Hey there Mister I-MAN
Let’s talk man-to-man
about this so-called plan
to build a mosque
in the rubble of the Devil

ImaN man I’ma never let you go
until we flesh this thing out
because
N is for never gonna back down [except for today]
N is for not a sign from Allah [it’s a sign from God]

Just pick up your building
It’s still in blue afterall
Just pick up your building
before it gets too tall
for men to burn it away
via un-imagination

Hey there Mister I-MAN
Let’s hash this thing out
stud-to-stud
cause neither one of us
wants anyone to
spill anyone’s blood

Pursed to Blow

THE ARTICLE:
“Florida Pastor Says Koran Burning Still On”
by Robert Mackey and Damien Cave
September 8, 2010

THE POEM:
Pursed to Blow

In Florida they drawl:
Three hours of fire on t plus nine years
after ya’ll burned up our Yankee brothers
screamin’ jihad when ya shoulda been
having morning grits 'n a biscuit

In Afghanistan they command:
Put clothes on your women
Put beards on your faces 
as long as a prayer 

On the battlefield they worry:
The ashes of words into the sky
put redwhiteandblue boys
on their toes or in the ground

In America they:
Split themselves in middles
Some light matches
Others have lips pursed to blow


Friday, September 10, 2010

flesh in between

THE ARTICLE:
“9 Years After 9/11, Public Safety Radio Not Ready”
by Edward Wyatt
September 7, 2010
http://www.nytimes.com/2010/09/07/business/07rescue.html

THE POEM:
flesh in between

hand-written notes running between
this side of terror
and that side of terror
while more makes itself
in between

*This is the twenty-first century*

when the next two fall down
[and I predict they will
in the form of the air we breathe
swooning bodies on top of one another
to form two tall towers to the sky]
there cannot be notes passed between bodies
between this flesh of terror
and that flesh of terror—
there is too much room
to make more
flesh in between

imprints

THE ARTICLE:
“Boxers, Briefs and Books”
by John Grisham
September 6, 2010

THE POEM:
imprints

a young woman forming words
to explain her cut up body her
torninto vagina while
the man who did it
listens behind a desk
and a blank face

everyone is crying in the jurors’ box

everyone is wishing
like me
they had guns to shoot off his fingers
one by one
so they couldn’t have
unsewn her buttons in one swift move
so they couldn’t have
transferred their imprints onto her lovely skin
so they couldn’t have
inserted themselves into places
they weren’t welcome

I used to sell men’s underwear

Before that I watered rose bushes

But people need people
to lasso the imprints of their lives
on paper

Four Lenses

THE ARTICLE:
“A Course Load for the Game of Life”
by N. Gregory Mankiw
September 5, 2010

THE POEM:
Four Lenses

fresh looks at time
from the lens of a wise fool and the
hindsight of a junior league batter
hitting one out of the park to a
seasoned vet in the smallest of ponds
within ponds

you knew this was coming

so you ignored the advice of those before you
and learned to think of the world in terms of its
exponential curves

you saw the insides of people
to help explain their outsides

you forgot to avoid the trickery of economists
you forgot to study the ground on which they position themselves

and now

four lenses on top of lenses
make the world decidedly blurry


Thursday, September 9, 2010

Man Up

THE ARTICLE:
“Man Up”
by Ben Zimmer
The New York Times Magazine
September 4, 2010

THE POEM:
Man Up

xy with two spheres down there
that send youknowwhat up and out
to make more xys who
dare not drink light beer
because that flicks off the aim of drinking beer
in the first place

cowboy in a western world
where doing the right thing
involves a gun and a steed
and a woman of
questionably morals
and a saucy attitude

a man can hang by the skin of his teeth
so long as he gets up and
knocks another set of parts to the mat

a man should tower over something

man to man defending bighardbodies
from others of their own kind who
nut up or shut up
on a daily basis
because there’s
no sissies in this century

never down to the ground
always up
to what things
should be

can’t just lay there and bleed

String

THE ARTICLE:
“A Crisis in Amish Country”
by Malcolm Gay
September 3, 2010

THE POEM:
String

Horseandbuggy aself into the house of the Lord
where houses are built from the bottom inside of people’s hearts
and lying to any man is the same as lying to Jesus
is worse than any foulplay inside of a child

in Curryville, Missouri
you can excommunicate
the Devil out of a man
you can pray the spirit
back into him

horseandbuggy aself across the string border
where we the people is the start of a world of
string rooms that become fields that become forests

there is a man who can penetrate the stomach aches
out of girls of ten and three years
stacked onto each other
like the bodies of two cousins

pray for us sinners
in German
in private

if he would repent and be honest
wingspans would materialize
bodies would send invitations
in the form of outstretched limbs
a body of people would
in-communicate a child of God

there is a man whose children are about the same as
and whose one unborn one day will be the
same kind of packaging that minds of this kind
like to open with boxcutters and devour the insidesof

I know a man whose world is
a tangle of string

What of the girls he has strung up? 

An answer in the form of many questions that are all the same question

THE ARTICLE:
“Grief Across Latin America for Migrant Killings”
by Randal C. Archibold
September 2, 2010

THE POEM:
An answer in the form of many questions that are all the same question

is that my
in my lap at 22
is that my
on the screen
divided into square parts of himself
is that my
in those blue pants of his
that shirt in stripes of yellow
and white

is that my
one of seventy-two
is that my
whose eyes always looked to the sky
whose nose always inhaled from the north
is that my
who didn’t care what could happen
is that my
whose bride of ten and four years
cannot speak at the sound of a name
that I chose
for
my

is that my
whose body is not yet with us
is that my
whose limbs went north
whose heart stayed here
in Guatemala

is that my
who promised
only the best air
only the best colors
to dress our lives up
in with him
to the north with a body
in those blue pants of his
that shirt in stripes of yellow
and white


Wednesday, September 1, 2010

Meatpacking Muslims

THE ARTICLE:
“Meatpacking Plants Accused of Harassing Muslims”
by the Associated Press
September 1, 2010

THE POEM:
Meatpacking Muslims

aerial meat and bones assault
in the middle of America
packingmeatheat of the minaretmoment
calling to the west for accommodations
during Ramadan

blackhawk downstage left of the
problem in Colorado
a dear old friend of mine
cried on the telephone
about a lawsuit

Insha’Allah it will go away
the meat the suit the
line drawn in chicken legs
and duck marrow
down the concrete floor