Paranoid Opticon

Earson Gibson

And straightening my back for the first time

brushing jagged bits of eggshell from my hair,
th Id with

mixed curiosity an
t joining a ch.
halfway ae tk

ate you're young ~
is to stay low, so a sharp wind
doesn’t take your head off
before you know the rules of the game.

But the referee is stuffed
and propped up witha broom!
He’s probably in the morgue
taking a igarette break,
rolling tobacco with the thin leaves as
of the rule book he stole from a ae? 3.
who was
slecping on the job.

"And most of the Siaperahs have gone mad,
pointing straightened fingers i in coat pocke
at anyone who comes close,

perched in ceiling Shadews | :
Waiting to crush: ‘skulls sot electronic stones,

is this a natural world
where a split second wire fire
connects people’ $ thoughts?

HOW LONG UNTIL .
__ -THE SPINNING MAGNET MINDS.
: UNDERSTAND OUR SYMBOLS |

: and WHO will be alive —

daaibey and magic are interchangeable
_but how many pins can dance on the head of an angel

Earson Gibson

My Warning

Rituals of Forgotten Magic,

The Beasts of old Reborn,

The Sanctuaries of Realms Unknown
Lie open and forlorn.

“Yona eis requiem’
Rings all through these Halls;

.-The Destiny of he who fails,”

The Blinded man recalls.

Head not the man whose Darkened Heart
Is full of Sin and Vice,

His deeds show ‘pon his ‘Saintly’ face
And each One visits Twice.

s : bei the.One who tells the Tales

are from the Heart,

For his Deeds you'll wish to ‘Thwart.
~ When yous are Apart.

‘And aticn: the Wispering Marmut cries,
- “Alas, itis Too Late!”
» Yeu’ll know that albhe’s done is Bak
Not Love but made you Hate... ~

It
t wade Srcash this Byzantine ¢
- the air heavy. with significance,
thick with dissection ~~

jn_an accordance

with your language of four-letter words. ,

2 A breath catches in my

chest; a butterfly rattling to escape
the confinements of

- this tightly wrapped cocoon.

Your fairness torments me: .

Fam apt at building small fires ane
“L fear

your proximity will cause

uindue burns.

L.wish your words
were a mountain I could. climb
without aaa &

| _ digging-my heels in.

I wish these descents °
were a mountain | could abandon

‘without dragging my feet:

- Anonymous.

_ Spill their beard into the dreams
, 2Of: weather forecasters

13

OCTOBER 22, 2003

How to Read Bad Poetry

How to Read
bad

poetry:

First, cross cross
cross cross
crosscross
cross cross
cross cross your eyes

Then; complicate ones’self,... UnneCessArily!?”’&.:
Then RIP
OUT

your tongue
and stuff it

- Jeremy Stewart _

#

Of Weather Forecasters

when thunder beats thasky like a DRUM.
and burning lightening fingers
. crashes on shores of cold air

© in the ghost sea

me call the. simiephere

Tm these. whet weightless mountain streams
twirl my hair and laugh

At frozen satellites who stare
Into the eyes of storm =

But iuhen: wind pulls warmth

s from soft skin like a ghost

- into the breeze, and blood slows
_as arteries: begin to freeze
the mind,

_ asleepy dienond on frosty. shares

This page is dedicated to.
‘Andrea “poets corner” Larson.
Incidentally she also got a cool

“Job: Gonprecietign®) Andrea: es

*.