what's the cost of writing poems the way we do?

doxastic is not a word

Nana told me

not to run thru the house with sizers

and for this reason,

I suppose,

I am still here belonging (unmarried)

my left foot needing exfoliating.

But there were,

I swear to you,

those horses when the spirit

left me alone, deft, bare and fading,

wanting to "saddle up"

with Wishbone making

hobo stew and mud cakes

on the  "Rawhide" of

sentimental salve ribbons.

Where I reach for the thing

then genuflex 

the realm, the bright crescent ;

my world view, late moon,

Dickinsonean, onomatopoetic 

porn machinery like The

wrist bands they give you

at the STD clinic

with your last name, first.

It was brutality and as beautiful

as the jerk, fling toss of

JLo's bangs. Who's brew

is this apelike

animal and who's quaff hide? 

Later

as if Sigurd was shaking me

from some enchanted sleep (sic) -

 for awhile there

I was collecting all the

JET MAGAZINES

with the girls bare

and big legged in the middle

sunlit,

yet pretended to be interested

in why Wilt wanted to score

so many hoops.

Or why Sarah Vaughn would

sweat in those last extravagant streaks.

Into this body

there is a strobe light just

itching to twirl again, to

beat back the prong of hunted art.

Somewhere 

the Pop-lockers are going

vertical thru this mirror

where I've placed my

inner hostilities/ Somewhere

a child on his first date

disguised as dana is Jonesing

for that distant, spiritual

ambience. 

Reviews

[Beccy]

Just imagine not possessing the imagination to generate such lines. Would you not simply explode in frustration; rage against the passing of years as no more than the consequence of birth.

Better perhaps to ask the question, 'what's the cost of NOT being able to write poems the way we do?'

Beccy.

[h d e rushin]

thank you love...Funerals, funerals and more funerals here in Detroit. No one wants to live long lives anymore..Glad you still are here among the living.....dana

[Robert Trakofler]

I see no disguise Dana you are... all you! Your own special language flying off the page in this one good god... as beautiful
as the jerk, fling toss of
JLo's bangs.
boom boom boom!
Rushin.. Dana, H. E. doxasticonomatopoetic queen!
.....supreme :)

[h d e rushin]

my dearest Bad....your words are like jewels.....thank you so much my friend...dana

[kentuck14]

D.
Starting with the title this is an interesting piece. This seems like a stream of consciousness, of memories of all the things that have made up your poetry . . . almost refracted through the broken glass of 'mirrors' (which can cut and scrape against the skin) . It is like a surrealistic journey into the once locked backroom of the mind . . . all these locked desires and confusions let loose and most likely overwhelming. It would seem the stuff of poetry often comes from that locked room . . . and thus, the cost of dealing with them again . . . even more intimately! Congratulations.
Tom

[Coyote Poetry]

I loved this poem. You reminded me of my grandfather sayings. Always teaching us to do the right things. Thank you dear friend for sharing the excellent poetry.
Coyote

[h d e rushin]

thank you dearest and good morning to you. I always appreciate your comments...dana

[Coyote Poetry]

Good morning to you and you are welcome my dear friend.

[jacob erin-cilberto]

we grow up breaking wishbones as kids, and somehow the wishes just never came true, even if we got the big end of it.
and then later we wonder where life has gone, so fast and we are still searching for what made us, "us"!
And how did we get here....from that first date...from the strobe light of life...from peeking into those skin magazines...as I would always say...I look at Playboy for the stories...uh huh...
i never ran with scissors...the idea always scared me...I didn't feel like a lucky punk...but Clint would love your reference to Rawhide here...you Made his day.
and mine, with this very Beat like poem...my favorite style...
bravo, dana.
j.

[h d e rushin]

Beat...yeah..I am reading Ginsberg this morning to draw me closer to it...Thanks for those kind words my friend...dana