Thursday, October 7, 2010

Steven Gulvezan - Two Poems

Old Man Flying

Sixty years to the grave…
Lift me out of my wheelchair
And plant my ass upon
A crotch rocket…
Tape coins to my eyes
Pour sand in my ears
Shove a rat up my nose
Stuff my mouth with newspaper
Put a bomb into my hands
And light the fuse, lads…
Kick start the beast
And twist my fist upon the
Hang on precipice!
Full throttle!
Big Daddy is coming home!


With hat in hand I come to your door
Asking about a homophone – no, quit
Slapping me, you fool, I said “homophone” –
I’m not searching for that sort of a
Connection – I’m a writer, a poet --
And I do have some connections –
You’d be surprised – New York,
Chicago – then, you ask, why do I
Need a homophone? You see, I’m
Stuck on this poem – and it’s a big
One – I can feel it coming – like a
Mother giving birth – only it is
Somehow caught in the canal –
Halfway out and I can’t force it and
I heard you were a genius poet and
I thought – oh, I thought wrong, huh? –
You don’t believe me? – You ask
Why I’m dressed in these rags and thin
As a bone? – I’m a poet, for Christ’s
Sake, and you, you…you say shut
Up, you’re not giving it away? –
I thought that’s what poets do…

Born in Detroit, Steven Gulvezan has worked as a journalist and a librarian. His writing has appeared in Ellery Queen’s Mystery Magazine, Scythe, Red Fez, Heavy Bear, Gutter Eloquence, Battered Suitcase and many other literary publications.

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