( The fifth of May, Two-thousand and seven)
Dirt-faced dunnocks
Circling
Circles round
Church tower
Brown sparrows
Bathing
In the gutters
An Old china
woman
Drudging along
An alleyway
Pushing
a rusted cart
Loaded
with a motley
Assortment
Of various detritus,
Useless,
though very important,
Things
As all things
are really.
-Pretty green
Bottles
Emptied
Of their wine
-An apple shaped clock
That looks a
swollen heart,
Or bloody fist.
I contemplate
Her filthy misery
With indifference
And feel a certain
Shameless
Selfish happiness
To look at her
As me
Not looking
Back at her
-Whatever the bloody
Hell that means.
And turning away
From the haggard old bitch
I imagine smells of piss
Looking towards the end
Of the street
Just in time to see
Two lovers meet
The fuckers...
- lean in
For a kiss. pucker up
And the
lips meet
And I,
The unlucky passerby,
Sigh
-A miserable sound
And continue
on my way
Towards the
underground
In London
Of America
NonEnglish Poppa
says Subway
And the hell with 'em
And I entertain
various digressions
Such as these so as
To forget my stubborn
Selfish
Loneliness and laugh
And say,
at the end of the day, perhaps
In French
if I may,
"Je Suis Désolé"
And laugh
With a sissy French accent
Says Cousin haven't seen
many years since I hear
He makes a life In Queens.
And everything's a digression
A shift from scene
to every other scene
Gray to gray and green
then
back to gray again.
"Etceterenough"
By George Gaudet
Things and NoThings Alike
Bone-weary
Wit-
H t-
his
Use-
Less living
Grown tired
Of cities
And sometimes
Cities
Crowded
With strange,
And
Always
Bitter faces
-I write
Burnt-
Out
And fatigued
Despite
Mind's
Broken down
machine
Of stupidities
And cluttered
Dreams
Like
Heart Burns
Gasoline
Heart burns
Gasoline
- I write
Tired of automobiles
And subway stations
Alike
Birds and flight
Alike
Dirt and sky
Alike
Cabs and bikes
Alike
Tits and thighs
Alike
Words and sighs
Alike
Fags and dikes
Alike
Alike
Day and night
Alike
Alike
Moon and sun
Alike
Dislike
Alike
Alike
By George Gaudet
( George is a college student living and working in London. A Parisian born to a Frenchwoman
and an American father, he has gone to England in hopes of earning a teaching degree.
He is currently working on a small collection of poetry entitled
" Empty Bottles in Smoky Rooms" which he plans on submitting to various U.K. Publishers)
Wit-
H t-
his
Use-
Less living
Grown tired
Of cities
And sometimes
Cities
Crowded
With strange,
And
Always
Bitter faces
-I write
Burnt-
Out
And fatigued
Despite
Mind's
Broken down
machine
Of stupidities
And cluttered
Dreams
Like
Heart Burns
Gasoline
Heart burns
Gasoline
- I write
Tired of automobiles
And subway stations
Alike
Birds and flight
Alike
Dirt and sky
Alike
Cabs and bikes
Alike
Tits and thighs
Alike
Words and sighs
Alike
Fags and dikes
Alike
Alike
Day and night
Alike
Alike
Moon and sun
Alike
Dislike
Alike
Alike
By George Gaudet
( George is a college student living and working in London. A Parisian born to a Frenchwoman
and an American father, he has gone to England in hopes of earning a teaching degree.
He is currently working on a small collection of poetry entitled
" Empty Bottles in Smoky Rooms" which he plans on submitting to various U.K. Publishers)
Filling in for a Friend at the Funeral Home
"You'll have to try
And stay out of the way
Kiddo, I know
This ain't you're gig, so
I'm gonna take it easy on ya
Since ya took it on such
Short notice
Just make sure things
stay neat and don't be
Drinking on the job
Not in plain view at least"
Old,
Middle-class
Bastards
In neat suits
Strangled by
Patterned ties
Passing by
Reflections
In the polished
Wood And death
Is understood
I imagine
" I hate
To say
This now,
But this
Really is such
A lovely
Home,
Such an
elegant
Place
To rest
One's weary
Bones
( Thinking )
After life
is death
And death's
Dim Repose
Once the curtains
Close and the
end of
this sad tragedy
turns
out to be a kind
Of comic show"
Hat in hands
Head hung low
Lips held close
To the ear
And a few
Whispered words
To comfort
The blue dame
Dressed in black
"To tell you the truth, I
Never liked the guy,
But still it's such a shame
That a good guy like him
Had to die,
Life's too cruel
Sometimes,and I"
Their pensive eyes
Were stiff
As dead men
Cold
As frozen fruit
By Paul Drummond
( Paul, a 27 year old journeyman, currently resides in Clifton, Maine.
He has been writing for three years.His influences include;
Anne Sexton, Charles Simic, Paul Levine and his wife to name a few.)
And stay out of the way
Kiddo, I know
This ain't you're gig, so
I'm gonna take it easy on ya
Since ya took it on such
Short notice
Just make sure things
stay neat and don't be
Drinking on the job
Not in plain view at least"
Old,
Middle-class
Bastards
In neat suits
Strangled by
Patterned ties
Passing by
Reflections
In the polished
Wood And death
Is understood
I imagine
" I hate
To say
This now,
But this
Really is such
A lovely
Home,
Such an
elegant
Place
To rest
One's weary
Bones
( Thinking )
After life
is death
And death's
Dim Repose
Once the curtains
Close and the
end of
this sad tragedy
turns
out to be a kind
Of comic show"
Hat in hands
Head hung low
Lips held close
To the ear
And a few
Whispered words
To comfort
The blue dame
Dressed in black
"To tell you the truth, I
Never liked the guy,
But still it's such a shame
That a good guy like him
Had to die,
Life's too cruel
Sometimes,and I"
Their pensive eyes
Were stiff
As dead men
Cold
As frozen fruit
By Paul Drummond
( Paul, a 27 year old journeyman, currently resides in Clifton, Maine.
He has been writing for three years.His influences include;
Anne Sexton, Charles Simic, Paul Levine and his wife to name a few.)
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