the poetry that matters

Ivan Peledov

Ivan Peledov was born in Moscow, Russia, and now lives in Longmont, Colorado. His English poems have been published in Red Fez, Poetry Super Highway, A Handful of Stones, The Beatnik, New Wave Vomit, Black-Listed Magazine, Asphodel Madness, Lost and Found Times, A Generation Defining Itself, and some other magazines. He keeps a weblog at http://birdsorfish.blogspot.com/.

I (antiques for the lotophagi)

we shall go and see, awkward and kind
inebriated guards of rotten statues
and twisted fluted leafy columns
trojan war heroes flayed by the kgb bureaucrats
brittle monuments to rococo animals
cloud eaters that dream of ceasing
to lap water from the stars dust from
mutilated words that always begin
with j, barbed wire and tintypes
from the skins of exuberant satyrs
haven't we known that everlasting
narratives of euxinian jellyfish
drowned in their ears
fastfood joints and public libraries
burnt between the toes
mere decorations
no i was wrong and rodents
still swim in light
devoid of a blessing


given a chance fledge water and
cover the eyes of the earth with
broken glass vicodin capsules
and cheeseholes

not fond of swindlers nor dormant
roses afraid to urinate on snakes
and dogs and the feet


trees strive to escape letterforms
ghosts jump into basketball hoops
the smell of the sun corrodes eyeglasses
dances on wires and chokes wristwatches
tubby ghosts come back in droves
with the smell of the sun on the tips of eyelashes
and tear the blankets to shreds
steal gloves and shoelaces
flood deserted art galleries
with orange flies


with a policewoman’s clumsy
tongue shall
give names to a few
green suns with just
a moment
of silent giggling
under the wings with holy
water in
featherless bodies over
cracked shadows shall rupture
the sky with all the flutes and
throats of nosey victims filled
with movements of dead fish
like eggs amnesia and exorcisms
it’s but a habit
with stumbling over ice
cream clouds into the dusty
ears of crying idiots ears
of dying turtles


everything in the east comes from caterpillars
everything in the north comes from birds
light is colored to the extent of non-existence
rodents lavishly paint the insides of silent planets
astronomers devour the foliage of ancient cellphones
limping girls threaten truck drivers with thumbtacks
along arcadian roads
everything in the south comes from thimbles


Bookmark and Share

                                                                                                       April 12, 2012