:: Article

Three Poems

By Mike Watt.

the swelter I felt there

I
labored
over and debated
voicing
every
yearning and
outburst in my daily chimping,
urging my most
econo
language
instead of the
zeal
angled spiel
but then thought, “fuck it”
eventually evolving
to
hear it
shoveled into a coal train’s load
of dream fuel
brain spooled
so tight
it sprung – ho!
…popped!
w/the thought
hmm…
such a very serious look:
your eyes narrowed
brows furrowed
hands gestured
as to measure
significance
and accent
just what
is to be
meant
oh
little one,
how tall really
your stature naturally
will always tower over
m
e
so
let
that
light
from this
packed tight
flamed bright
mind shine through goofball
eyeball lantern lenses lighting
tender
script rendered
from your tender
living
hand
and
fit
and
fashioned
just, just, just
so…
may that crazy fire’s light
help you
see you,
help you
be you

follow the curve

pelican wings to carry
you
specialness
o’er the arc
of a curved world’s
promises
sun-warmed wings
loft your beautiful dreams
into focus
tiny breaths
whisper where
the love is

chicago, illinois

last night
I
made a shape w/my mouth
and what dropped out?
a name of one
born
in the town of this stage
also,
my first stage
before the burden of age
anyways -
the cipher evoked
a power stroke
and kept keel
under instead of
outer so
I
could work the deck
w/crazy semaphore on
my little machine
has me
lit
lighthouse lit
foghorn fit
and the look
on those kids’
faces
making sentences
from my one word
how could they fathom
I had dreamt a whole tome
from those
nine
special
letters?

ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Mike Watt lives in San Pedro, California, USA. He plays music with The Secondmen and The Stooges. He is the author of Spiels of a Minuteman (L’oie de Cravan).

First published in 3:AM Magazine: Saturday, August 10th, 2002.