CHILDREN OF THE NEW DAWN
Very fentanyl
half a face, the
other
diffused of light.
Very Avedon
or Penati, a
little Modigliani
& off balance.
Laughing gas under suspicion
cracking a nail on
your zipper
Everything I do is
underneath. Cocky, shy
competent and
amazingly contradicting
So many poetry
snipers
toying around to
get even. The old breed
chagrinned into
temporary sedation
Very solicitous
types
pretty dingy right
up to
LAST
LINES
A
guest of a guest of a guest
I
include myself only in spirit to own the invisible
for
us solicitous types
it's
the first step towards vanishing
&
a wondrous curse of necessity
intercepting
conversations, swallowing all the jewels
ignoring
misgivings to see what happens
Intrigue
is not your forte, unfortunately it's mine
feral
Micah of the many myths
a
degenerate potente clouded
by
irritating dark drapes and a discovery of accidents
with
cardboard launch ramps
&
fingernails painted gold, ornamental to the quest
RUN THE NAMES
Stacking clips
for the viper room
changes
from who you are
to what you’re doing instead
Flush me out into
the open and make a scene of it
prior to being
bumped
I preferred
celebrity over secrecy too
Having an aptitude
for descent never a question
keep the pretenses
and be the venue
The windows stay
open to allow materialization
All the fabricated
hype winds up
dressing down the
bravado
& gets stingy
with trust like we all do
The idea is to
have a way out
& remain a
discovery of accidents
whose rhythms of
being
are a substratum
of unused possibility
Not to enshrine
the heist
an interesting
life can mean
a greater refund
BETWEEN
VAST NEGOTIATIONS
Extravagant
grotesquerie
waiflike
clairvoyant prosecuted
for dreams
cribbing forms
into party games
suffering spells
of neglect
owing to
intimidation to taunt
the grim reaper
and put the fun in funeral
the surrender a
famous silence
of macho
existentialism
where the true
hatchings are accidental
& the sorcery
is torpedoed
into a gamy
incoherence
time-released for
later
YOUR
CALL
Fan letters mash
notes
spidery lashes
toying around
trying to get even
something I said worked
& the map goes
dark
Feeling pretty
Weldon Kees
an insurrectionary
spirit invokes a holy rage
to save a lost
battle my famous couch never asks why
Any qualms only
elevate significance
the game is the
same cachet
the invitation is
for everyone
All you have to do
is wait
& sometimes
beat yourself up
The lower you go
the regions get
higher
Micah Ballard [photo credit: Lorca Ballard] is the author of over a dozen books of poetry including Waifs and Strays (City Lights Books), Afterlives (Bootstrap Press), The Michaux Notebook (FMSBW), Parish Krewes (Bootstrap Press), Selected Prose, 2008-19 (Blue Press), Evangeline Downs (Ugly Duckling Presse), Daily Vigs (Bird & Beckett Books), Vesper Chimes (Gas Meter), and Negative Capability in the Verse of John Wieners (Bootstrap Press). He also recently co-edited G U E S T #21 : Castle Guestskull (above/ground press, 2022) with Garrett Caples. He lives in San Francisco with poet Sunnylyn Thibodeaux and their daughter Lorca.