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Thursday, April 19, 2007

BLINDED LIKE TIRESIAS

by Fred Ferraris


Excess infinity places unfair burdens on irrational slope lines
The Sheriff screwed with chaotic attractors and contracted chains
The Colonel mistook his sackbut for a hole in the pitch pipe
The automatic trowel has launched a denial
Lumpen proles like broken pencils in the white hunter’s frumpy lobe
Moonshine spilled from the mouth of a replica
Gangsters in the Senate form globular clusters in congested cloacae
His Lordship’s parakeet is in the other room, asking a lorilet how to date kewpies
The warhorse loves a clash clash violin
I discovered a theory of life-before-death in your postcards from Golgotha
Fog-bound lawmen flog their pygmies
Reliable sauces are being sequestered inside a fairy tale where the crucified prosper
The blind seer with a saxophone waves his tubeworm in your face
A large sausage has cast its shadow on the Axiom of Piety
Many bathroom mirrors stumble through their careers in fear of the new toilet seat
The single-breasted paradox has ionized my laundry
The troll will now attempt to vacuum his mother’s blowhole
His gestures are being mimicked in theistic cisterns
When the game changed to tribal revenge, the diplomatic shuttlecock blew the truce
It¹s difficult sometimes to distinguish theocratic fascists from Stalinists with stock options
The doorstop that worships Nergal enjoys a timely evasion
The Treasurer declared his moral bankruptcy with an undisguised locution
Poisoned birds cause laughter among the sycophants
The Admiral dined on toad skins as he planned an assault on your mailbox
The huckster choked on Joyce’s hocket
My dog does not subscribe to pulsating universe theories
The President’s foundation garment is an empty oration
The blind seer with a saxophone has forgotten how to beg
My spell of asking impolite questions passed unnoticed
The cool of Baghdad was a great relief after the heat in Pyongyang
My daughter hopes to enroll in a school for galaxy design
The small split infinitive dried in the sun
The Admiral with a steam iron wants to open your spam
Let's go eat some Korean tacos in stained grey coats
The President intends to ask for new taxes to buy off invading Cubans
Government rag pickers prefer their sponges prepared in the Orwellian style
By linking their resources and comparing results, they hope to produce better tubeworms
Thank goodness I died before we reached Crawford
The Governor argues that sleaze should be tax-exempt, but only if used for political purposes
I'd like to find a skald who can take dictation in ghost words
The Pentagon believes their new stealth snail may attain light speed before we know it
Galaxy formation ten billion years ago interests me a little
In the movie, Citizen Kane, if you look through the parrot’s eye, you can see a skeleton dancing
As soon as the tacos arrive, let’s all shout, “Olé!"


Fred Ferraris is a poet, writer, and filmmaker. His recent work has appeared in, among many others: Audience, Epicenter, Heaven Bone, Poetrybay, and The Worcester Review; also in the chapbooks, Marpa Point (Blackberry Press, 1977) and The Durango Chronicles, Book One (Blue Marmot Press, 2004), a full-length book, Older Than Rain: Early and Recent Poems (Selva Editions, 1997), and the anthology, Prayers for a Thousand Years (Harper San Francisco, 1999). His book length manuscript, Loose Canons, was a finalist in the 2003 National Poetry Series. His film collaboration, "Even the Door Must Open," was an award winner at the 2005 Nolita Film Festival in New York. Ferraris was also nominated in 2005 for a Pushcart Prize. He was active in the New York and Northern California poetry scenes in the 1970's. Between 1977 and 1996 he devoted himself to family life and dharma practice. Ferraris lives with his family in Lyons, Colorado.