attend autopsies
instead of church
cremations instead
of classrooms
listen to recordings
of horrific car crashes
instead of music
gaze at x-rays
of organs
instead of paintings
drink battery acid
instead of chicken soup
sculpt a new mt. rushmore
with bukowski's, johnny cash's &
schopenhauer's faces
lie down & cross your arms
like you're dead
instead of reading books
kick yourself instead
of patting yourself on the back
feel the shock in your tailbone
you had a tail once
not much has really changed
stare at the alligator's eyes
instead of sunrises
grab an anthill in your fis
tlet the grains fall in the wind
write by popping bloody zit-pus
onto the paper instead of ink
visit mausoleums instead of
libraries
snap the cruicfix in half
use it to sound a drumroll
just before you announce:
god was ALWAYS dead
see the world through
ashtray-colored
glasses
don't wish on the stars
cast curses on all of
those out-of-reach, fading
little zeroes
smash your clocks
the hands of time
are really an opening
& closing
straight razor
that makes wounds
& unheals old ones
join the association
for the disassociated
a rose is rose because
it dies
what about a city?
be part of the
demolition team
not the architects
rip out your femur
carve it into a bugle
& play taps for
your old life
---------------
Rob Plath is 37 years. He has published about 150 poems in 50 magazines and journals in print and online. He has one book of poetry called “Ashtrays and Bulls” (liquid paper press--home of the nerve cowboy) and two forthcoming, one from Cat Scan Press in the UK called “Sour Milk” for the soulless and another from Pooka Press in Canada which is not yet titled. He once studied with Allen Ginsberg at Brooklyn College from '95-97 and performed on a spoken word CD “Northport celebrates jack” --a tribute to Jack Kerouac. Since he has just become poetry editor of Whirligigzine - JD Finch's fiction and poetry magazine, which is in print and online. Rob lives in New York.
instead of church
cremations instead
of classrooms
listen to recordings
of horrific car crashes
instead of music
gaze at x-rays
of organs
instead of paintings
drink battery acid
instead of chicken soup
sculpt a new mt. rushmore
with bukowski's, johnny cash's &
schopenhauer's faces
lie down & cross your arms
like you're dead
instead of reading books
kick yourself instead
of patting yourself on the back
feel the shock in your tailbone
you had a tail once
not much has really changed
stare at the alligator's eyes
instead of sunrises
grab an anthill in your fis
tlet the grains fall in the wind
write by popping bloody zit-pus
onto the paper instead of ink
visit mausoleums instead of
libraries
snap the cruicfix in half
use it to sound a drumroll
just before you announce:
god was ALWAYS dead
see the world through
ashtray-colored
glasses
don't wish on the stars
cast curses on all of
those out-of-reach, fading
little zeroes
smash your clocks
the hands of time
are really an opening
& closing
straight razor
that makes wounds
& unheals old ones
join the association
for the disassociated
a rose is rose because
it dies
what about a city?
be part of the
demolition team
not the architects
rip out your femur
carve it into a bugle
& play taps for
your old life
---------------
Rob Plath is 37 years. He has published about 150 poems in 50 magazines and journals in print and online. He has one book of poetry called “Ashtrays and Bulls” (liquid paper press--home of the nerve cowboy) and two forthcoming, one from Cat Scan Press in the UK called “Sour Milk” for the soulless and another from Pooka Press in Canada which is not yet titled. He once studied with Allen Ginsberg at Brooklyn College from '95-97 and performed on a spoken word CD “Northport celebrates jack” --a tribute to Jack Kerouac. Since he has just become poetry editor of Whirligigzine - JD Finch's fiction and poetry magazine, which is in print and online. Rob lives in New York.
