INTERVIEW WITH A PERSON WHO SPEAKS IN QUESTIONS.

The traffic glides up—or down—the one way street?
It’s a city but quiet in a neighborhood
that will grow dangerous at night, beneath overpasses?
The wooden models & their grand plans lied?
The city sprawled & chipped & sunk
& weltered & snapped in half, in places,
an arrangement that prefigures casual run rioting?
In the future, Marco Polo, the swimming pool game
will be, by then, an Olympics sport?
They’ll just throw all the Marco Poloers into the pool
at once, from all nationalities—b/c Marco Polo is universal?
The final three swimmers earn medals?
That, or a judge will just select his favorites—
the ones who slept with him or gave him gifts?


[NaPoWriMo Sonnet #9.]

INTERVIEW WITH THE OFFICIAL IN CHARGE OF ESTIMATING DELAY.

Yep, we outsourced Estimation in the 90s & the Oughts

to Samoa, or so we thought, but when the phone records

came back Albania, well, that scandal kicked the calories

outta Middle Management & we brought that job home

I mean, one job, I know it ain’t much, but I’m proud to say

by now, these Delays are 100 percent American-made &

100 percent American Estimated & 100 percent American

Middle Managed & 100 percent American fulfilled—that is

when the Delayed equipment, person, or sum actually arrives

(I was sent to Theory Courses at the Extension Campus &

ever since I’ve adopted the motto: Keeping It Real Time!)

Oh yes ma’am you can expect a delay of 10 to 15 minutes

our latest information suggests a delay of 20 to 25 minutes

see? I just love helping a Fellow Citizen to be Delayed!

[NaPoWriMo Sonnet #8.]

INTERVIEW WITH A SKEPTIC OF COLONY COLLAPSE DISORDER.

Einstein theorized “No bees / No people”

but I see plenty of folks

especially in Wal Mart—

& haven’t we been Post-Colonial for, like

300 years by now? I mean

so a colony collapses, that’s Capitalism, Bub

a replacement comes along w/ honeycomb

& queens & drones & palm buzzers

how many Conspiracies-in-Science

before Gov’t places a Warm Day Tax

Einstein should’ve theorized “High taxation”

& sorry—no, the critters can’t overtake

another hive—instead of Pollination Reform

these bees oughta get off their lazy knees.

[NaPoWriMo Sonnet #7. Too, see: The Greatest Poet, Paul Celan.]

INTERVIEW WITH A SELF-DEPRECATING ADULT.

I’ve deprecated three times today

that’s about average

according to my Provider

self-loafing, she says, leads to dents in self-confidence

but to avoid that I should let off some self-steam

via flagellation? I ask

(picturing brisk pennant & maypole) (ahem)

but she’s twisting her head Noo noo noo

I don’t get wrangled

but sometimes I think of deprecating my Provider

you know like scrawling “Provide Err”

under the bridge w/ spraypaint or sharpie &

sitting in the hedgerow sober

while the tintype cloud-pack calculates rain

[NaPoWriMo Sonnet #6. Too, see: The Great Scansion of 2012.]

INTERVIEW WITH A PETTY LARCENY SUSPECT.

Love is a minimalist construct, granted—
with its “ensuing domestic bliss” &
I could be in love even w/ a heavy person
here in the day slam mulching my options
I’ve matured—OK! OK!
do the two salad dressings come w/
the fishloaf or the hot baloney
b/c I’ve got the scurvy & needs mount
all right?—so I’ll cop to the mint patties &
I’ll cop to the activator & mango butter
(those were not for me!) (I owed a pacific person)
but the duffelbag of STIM-U-DENTS
were a gift from my dentist—hey man
it’s a matter of life & breath!


[NaPoWriMo Sonnet #5. Too, see: How to Read Poetry (for Dummies).]

INTERVIEW WITH THE VICTIM OF A JELLYBEANS PRANK.

These were pebbles popping
the floor near Orange Julius?
no & once a bean got lodged
in my support garment I forgot
about the kids laughing on 3
en route to the restroom I’d find
a bean in my pocket—a bean
shook out of my hair—a bean
floating in my macchiato &
in the stall I moved the bean
around my support garment good
I seized myself & seized myself
a gourmet sizzling cinnamon
so near & yet sweetly elusive!


[NaPoWriMo Sonnet #4.]

INTERVIEW WITH AN OPHTHALMOLOGY PATIENT OF BASHAR AL-ASSAD.

I come to palace w/ complaint of myopia
but Assad, he order root canal, instead—
“Root canal!” he shout behind ear &
rip open door to corridor where men in fatigue
crash into each other “oof!” & “dumbkopf!”
their paper like firework explode into air
then fluttering down to earth like autumn
Assad is gone many hour but I sit in chair
(rocket make Mach One near windowpane)
until new morning when Assad return w/
nurse & hammer & plier & elephant bandage
he have cinderblock dirt on face, on forearm
I tell him “myopia better!” I cover eye &
read imaginary chart—I do this for my life.

 

[NaPoWriMo Sonnet #3.]