Two Poems
By Paul Kavanagh.
Camera
I saw a Mexican kid shot thru the head
on Amsterdam.
I never saw the collapse for the taxicab that had
dropped me off got in the way.
Moments before the taxidriver had offered me
his wife & daughters. He said that I could do anything
I wanted with them so long as he could use his new
digital camera.
It was an ephemeral moment, timeless
the sound of the gun echoing thru streets
of New York City & the city swallowed the
bang. Sirens, screams, I did not want to return to
my hotel room. What a show New York puts
on for its tourists & free as well. I bathed in
the electric flashing lights & drowned in the
policemen’s orders. In a huge black bag they
scooped the trash up like I do at home. In the
morning I went to where the Mexican boy was
shot & there was a blemish upon the road.
But there was no white lines depicting a murdered
Mexican kid like you see in the movies.
I was disappointed for I had bought a cheap
disposable camera.
Elysium
conquistadors we were off seeking conkers
Those jewels
Snottynose toerags
Over hills
Pass trees
Never yawed
Trespassers, chomping on forbidden apples,
Imbibing milk from bottles, pilfering washinglines,
Plucking flowers, micturating into fish ponds,
An inquisition of stray cats and feral dogs,
Smeared excreta upon the priest’s doorknobs,
Rang bells and legged it, deflated wheels, blew farts,
Smashed a window, lit newspapers, kicked over gnomes
We chased witches, ghosts, the phantasmagoria,
Hitchhiking, piggybacks, wheelbarrows,
Fought legions of demons,
Overcame pusillanimity,
Annihilated magicians, she devils, Beelzebub,
The lord of the flies, Moloch
Entered the agora of vampires!
With hogweed obliterated a myriad!
Came upon them
Horny couple in parked car
Tupping they were in the backseat,
Like copulating dogs, he was stuck out of her arse,
Transversed her clammy body did his clammy pokers,
Grimace upon grimace she piled upon her countenance,
Bulging with conkers the gage d’amour was no more
But no thoughts of love when war was on the horizon
For a glorious arsenal possessed
And I bapitized the biggest
William the bastard!
ABOUT THE AUTHOR:
Paul Kavanagh lives in Charlotte. His novel, everybody is interested in pigeons, will be published by 40FT Books.
First published in 3:AM Magazine: Sunday, September 7th, 2008.
