the poetry that matters

John Landry

John Landry edited collision on the 1990s in Massachusetts. His book who will prune the plum tree when i'm gone/quién va a polar los ciruelos cuando me vaya was published in 2010 by Editorial Cuneta in Santiago Chile. His work has appeared in Amerarcana, Atmospherics, Bughouse, Caesura, Flying Fish, Fresh Broth, and Glossolalia. He served as contributing editor for the 50th anniversary anthology of San Francisco's BEATITUDE.




                                                                        "I object to being killed in wartime" Jacques Vache


1.         seven seals sun themselves at low tide          

            contentedly agitated

            by the cry of one lone loon


2.         Military Industrial Complex be damned !

            no phoenix rises from this Fire Dance

            hovers maybe a paper bird

            a thin black ash like Maui snow

            that sweet gone cane wing

            a small child's kite cut loose

            and sucked up toward the sun


3.         anything which is inhuman

            I do not care for

            Reno is dizzied with gambling

            Reno is Nero sidewise fiddling with the tactics of men        

            no revolution in letting burn the compound fracture

            of the everywhere cyclomyopian screen

            through which all I's are mesmered                           


 4.        under the unsealed sun

            boredom is one thing not necessary to suffer

            yet the fool, my dancecard is filled

            with patience, mercy, compassion ––

            the invisible chorus of all my other selves


5.         come, panacea for a day or 2

            if we keep up this way

            inebriated by power

            we'll be unable to detect

            when the rapture comes--

            hell, either it's a daily rapture

            or it's nuthin', Baby.


6.         Vache whispers through my laparoscopic wounds

            "Nothing will kill a man for you

            like being obliged to represent a country."

            song ricochets from breast bone to pelvis

            through new secret chambers

            singing for the gone felosdese


7.         fling that organized hairshirt into the night

            pry your operculum open

            doomed are those around the ones

            who believe it is impractical to dream



Bookmark and Share

                                                                                                     October 13, 2013