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MARIAM NEIGER In the Anthropology MuseumProper objects are standing here, at a distance from their destination. A collection blended together in a mythic dough ready for digestion. Horrible ritual are pressed through the sleeves of the construction into a compact, subtle, prophetic capsule of memory. Curves of the legendary feathered snake cause confusion around containers no longer in context, proofs in the sentences of culture. Tense beauty radiates from the rulers of the Kingdom of Entropy. Hearts torn out are still quivering in stone basins, offerings for the gods who keep the sunrise bloody. Jade mosaic on a skull. The recycled dead are revealed in the dust, serving in a latterday cult. Its worshippers are retired American women admiring with such precise tone: oh, how nice! Guided tour, a few more steps forwards, drawn by a promised charm in the epic of Montezuma's daughter, who became curator. And in each additional ride following the production of a ruined temple another unit of time is beyond. And History..... And what is coming close ahead of us becomes clear like the light flickering among the clouds on a day which promises nothing in the way of good news. Translated by Anthony Rudolf and the author. Copyright 2006, all rights retained by the poet |
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 Poetry by Israeli MARIAM NEIGER has appeared in Real Eight View, The Surface, WORDs Dance, Wieldy, Liquid Muse, The Sidewalk's End, and The Stump. | 06.04: 045 page navigation
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RALPH MONDAY Chiron in the RefrigeratorHe done done it again The clopped hoofed bastard Offspring of some imperialistic Olympians. Just because he taught Moves to an adolescent birthed by A sea babe twiddled diddled in Zeus Knows when, he thinks that he can Come strutting in sucking on the last Brewsky and I Nestor Bestor just seeking A warm fire has to shovel his shtick. I done been Odysseying too long. Plops down his horse ass, gathers all four Legs under, reaches for the last piece of pizza Powers the clicker hits after a few bad channel Surf moves to ESPN2 where halftime is buzzing That all is a draw. Like this age murmurs he. Trainers done wonders For my old wound got me tuned better than Leda's Raper ever did, sorta like Clinton that old guy living Way up in the blue sky. How's our boy doin Peleus' son Hear he got Priam's boy on the run. Commercials over pizza long repast The two come together, after halftime, In Neyland's stadium at long last. Achilleus with his long ashen spear Glorious resplendent in heavenly gear Hector not shaking unyet deceived by Athena's heavenly weave bounces outward Striding so fast that he is unaware of his ass. Three times three forever beyond they cast Their lots on fortified grass. Chiron, roaring Drinking a beer rises from his seat as though He had just speared a deer. Both casts missed on the first try, Hector The more deceived did not know to fly. Ha ha, ho ho the brave Trojan cried. Replied great Achilleus: that's yo Muther! In came Athena blonde cheerleader With pompons. Poor Hector did not Realize that this day she was without Tampons. All his courage went so fast Goddess cheerleaders bleeding in the grass Ain't a good sign, so he turned to look For a mime; alas, alack, avow her skirt Turned up did him in somehow. No brother more, no sister less Poor breaker of horses was done In by a dress. Copyright R. Monday Friday, November 17, 2000 |
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UMA ASOPA Them and UsThey tell me to define me and my purpose in terms of my God, and sanctify what I eat, sing or pray till I conform to a congregation of similar, impervious thoughts, sitting at edge with another - both seeking God and His blessing to nurture and reinforce the dissimilarity and containment. Soon it is them and us - standing at borders of shrinking middle ground. Them and us - bleeding across fenced islands, with no hope to forgive and forget. Copyright 2006, all rights retained by the poet |
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