the poetry that matters

A.J. Kaufmann

A.J. Kaufmann is from Poznan, Poland. His work has previously appeared in ditch, Carcinogenic Poetry, Clockwise Cat, Red Ceilings and many other, mostly on-line, journals. He's the author of "Siva in Rags" (Kendra Steiner Editions, 2008), "Broke Nuptial Minds" (Virgogray Press, 2009) and other poetry chapbooks.


Gamma Eyes

gamma eyes on underlying sand
toy the I fabric
I'd looking… live it – you and moment
of the not exactly body
a planet
in recorded presence
where’s the was
that asked me
of you, my & me
became the backs
of a shadow:
to all the blood-sucking
public servants
I’ve got no message
but flimsy telescopes scan you
be beaten
if not,
go travel
Gold of Their Helmets

what was he about?
frowning of traveling
obese action
strangest new answer
milk planes
the Orient
he would smile, racing
and helper
pulse procession
below the door
to his mother’s
big insects desire
continents fool
machinelike minds
mathematical surprise
impact, stars, struck on the open fire
country, the gold  of their helmets
Lantern Mourner

lantern mourner
performing the blame
the lie, in a shocked
state of coma
surfing sudden depths
like a first born son
the deed you won't
forget – earthward, occupied by
day things
caring what the
dawn brings
packed a mean trombone
walked the Archimedes
he scarcely remembered
fences, love, which was on it, over
now, shoulders drove to sea
rolled on deep
she said he could move on
against the dust
and bodies
join the dodged
of that
stay ashore
giving light to town
Eviscerator Heaven

with me
the water came down
from tall bald temples
hack on god muzzle
first-rate quality jazz
shifted with the black drum
coming from
outer space
on muffled trumpets
& African goddesses
gone, supreme – gleamed through
a bird on crowded stone
in trap
old room
of sickly sweet walls
which moveth to
a haven insect craft
heaven, I say – eviscerate
the heavens!
Armada Barrier

where contrast knows narrow
and owes to the devil
where seasons live
cursing the us-necessary
disconnected forever
are allies again
in creeping of seas
mid-way seem, your son, the fable
seriously, practically been-at
here, before the flesh
you operate
turns constant metal tomorrows
to faults of evening, a someone
battle tubes read
or shifting calculations
armada barrier
Answering No Planet

smut bars, ideas
earthforms of a seashell:
join the celestial jamsession
shattered indicators
lead your tired
boots – plug in and let it
death rewards alike
in ultra-violet
set ports
ignored ladders
pinkish moons
black ascetics
growing night
instead of beards
smoking stars
instead of joints
by the shores of
Saturnian oceans
by the dawn of a bridge
by the weight
of the sun
answering no planet


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                                                                                                                 May 9, 2013