David McLansky Poems

A sanded piece of driftwood
Marooned upon the shore
Once a mighty redwood,
Flotsam, now, no more.
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Oh China, you’re a drunken cow;
1984 is really now;
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There we stood in Limerick town
In some back street and turned around,
Having just come from Mrs. Coffee B&B,
Searching for a road we didn't see.
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Through mortal life
Its strife and pleasures,
There is a gauge
That takes its measure;
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I feel guilt that I’ve abandoned you
For a new electric brush
That rotates as it jiggers through
The toothpaste turned to slush;
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I cling to your rough bark
And feel you sway glad of the dark,
I note the wideness of your girth
You’ve put on weight since your birth;
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Thy memory, thy sum of good,
Remains transfixed, as it should,
For kindness, laughter, doesn’t fade,
But lives hereafter, the sun arrayed;
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Elaine Sept, a.k.a Lainey Seven,
There is a God, there is a heaven
Your name implies there's more at home,
I'd be glad to have one of your clones.
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Distracted youth whose heart's impaled
Who sings so sweetly in her travail
Whose downy cheeks are stained and mottled
Your porcelin eyes two broken bottles;
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On the Pilgrim Road with Elaine

Much faithless love have I known
On random highways have I roamed
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