lou tullio is a small, translucent ghost
floating over gravel by train-tracks.
he looks like fdr in a wheelchair
boxed in a misty-like hologram,
...
i'm typing this poem with cold fingers.
the past gas & electric bills are monsters
eating our food, quick as that,
lower the thermostat, don't turn on
...
charlie parker is blowing sweet
beauty thru our minds our eyebrows
round & touch into moons of short hair
2 more eyes tumors rip thru sky flesh centers
...
cheryl rainbeaux smith
pounds lava bubbling drums
thru the foggy heads of joan
jett's ghoulishly lost ancestors
...
there was a chicken
resonating over other yardbirds
that warbled like a long liquid corderoy clarinet
that rose from farm dirt with wings made of horse
...
begin to count the moments from waking until
yr head blends within a black pillow, thousands
of scenes, as if one day is a splattered galaxy.
...
in a tree-circled field
edged with wolves, walnut
trees, webs, nets of bugs,
...
Prolific underground amerikan poet active in the small press/underground press since the late 1970's, with 40-some chapbooks published. Newest book: " Confluence" , Busted Dharma Books,2015.190 pages.)
Dream A Little Dream
lou tullio is a small, translucent ghost
floating over gravel by train-tracks.
he looks like fdr in a wheelchair
boxed in a misty-like hologram,
& he's smiling, talkative, somehow
picking up litter. i ask him how is it
trains run thru the city,
how are red-lights in sync
so no cars or people are crushed?
he doesn't know. he's the size
of a pillow-case, & a
ghost wavering over gravel,
good ol' lou tullio,
former mayor of eerie.
i look down at him &
he grins.