Joe Guillotin

Rookie (1879-?)

Friends He.. - Poem by Joe Guillotin

The friends HE
sends me

whisper sweet nothings

After the new moon kill the first born
Build a baseball diamond in a field of corn

Leave a bomb in the park in a duffle bag
Perhaps even saw off one of my legs

or an ear
the thought does seer

The friends HE
sends me

whisper sweet turpintine in my ear

all sunbursts and sunflowers
start to shiver with the power

from the tips of my fingers
it tingles, mingles, and lingers

The friends HE
sends me

chatter boxes at a business party
my consorts- urging me to invest smartly

in straightjacket tuxedos
and easily dissolved pills
No one ever knows
what next will pay the bills

What notion? What idea? what SPARK?
just a single whim to light up the dark


The friends HE
sends me

believe heavily
in unmade beds
and busted heads
and crawl spaces
and rolling pins
and doughey faces
and aspirins

They believe in
Silencing the screaming air condition
and huddling in the fetal position

watching crayons melting on the heater
a lil smile, maybe a flinch, and the salt peter

They believe in butterflies pithed on a mat
classified as THIS or classified as THAT

The Frenzy
sends me.

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Comments about Friends He.. by Joe Guillotin

  • (6/8/2005 6:10:00 AM)

    Full of interesting and striking images. I must confess I don't get the point of it though.: -) (Report)Reply

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Read poems about / on: raven, lost, time, work



Poem Submitted: Wednesday, June 8, 2005

Poem Edited: Wednesday, June 8, 2005


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