February snow blown
From the northwest
Hit Sonja in the face
As she walked by the bus stop
On her way home
I was watching her
From the overhang
That protected people
Spending their money
In the mall
Sonja was carrying groceries
In her arms
Two big paper bags of groceries
She had already walked a mile
Home was not too far
I was kind of fond of Sonja
And her blond hair
I liked women who
Worked hard
And could drink a lot of beer
Still do
6 comments:
Mr. Hockey, I'd buy a copy of the collected poems of Mr. Beer N. Hockey. Nobody can write like Blake or the English Romantics, so the next best bet, here in the postmodern world, is to be economical and get to the fuckin' point. You do that real well.
You should read this:
http://sports.espn.go.com/nhl/columns/story?columnist=frei_terry&id=3327990
I wrote poems as a lad, stopped for a good long while, and have begun again, dipping into the same dirty stream of consciousness that pollutes this press. Your encouragement is appreciated.
Blake is among the many poets I have read in library books over the years. I like that he moved into Godwin's house when the Anarchist moved. In my piles of books you would find the poetry of Al Purdy, Leonard Cohen, Patti Smith, Bukowski and Kerouac.
Being Irish I have high standards when it comes to poetry. We are given credit with bringing poetry and some damn fine beer to the western world. In this context I feel, when I write a poem, like I am asking the priest to pull my finger in church.
And what about 'The Ginger Man'?
Is Mr. Dunleavy's pseudo-poetic screed in your pile?
If it is not, it darn well should be, for all kinds reasons, Irish and otherwise.
OK?
.
Dunleavy's book sounds good. Don't suppose there is any chance of it being in the Steepleton library system so I'll have to look for it.
If that HST-O-Phile Mr.Depp ever makes the movie you'll be able to pick up the re-issue at the Steeptown 7-11 right quick, I reckon.
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