today i am
my mother's son

in absence of eternity
we majored in silence

with an abstract propensity
we watched

as they broke down
history's cradle

with haunted eyes

for the ghost of downtown
charlie brown's stolen ghetto

once content
to work for peanuts


today i sit     dismantling
the sun's memory

browning grass     revolting
against the bare white     skin of my feet

the nile seems    too
far removed

from terry's laughter
or the feminine    breeze

with its lingering perfume
somehow    everything

a    love poem

its own

trouble in paradise

maybe she'd been      the apple of your eye
eaten out    lightly purring rhythm
rain tapping    against
the window

eve picking    "the grapes
of wrath"    up at
some used

but some apples
are filled
with worms

and paradise isn't paradise
for long    eternity smiles
on imperfection    as if
it were    the red headed step child
of a disco icon

and the only tapping    going down lately
is that weathered     vein
used to pay    the rent

and love is hiding    under
the covers    waiting for the sun
to make    a false move

and at 5:38 am    these things
seem like
bitter fruit

when paradise    seems
too troubled    to say i
love you    or even
           her teeth

on borrowed sunlight

we are living
on borrowed

for cult status
celebrity skin    used vinyl
most days i feel like
leatherface revisiting
the scene of the crime

going down
on the american daydream
and we're spent    on pussy juice
dripping from venus's outline
goddess of love i lick your
lips in search
of lifesavers
at the
bottom of the

thank god
i have

John Dorsey currently resides in Toledo OH. His work has recently appeared in
fearless, Mystery Island Magazine, The James River Poetry, Poesy Magazine, and The
Dublin Quarterly. He is the author of "Little Boy Beat:Selected Poems" Paladin M
&E Inc., and is the co-author of "The Price Of Sunshine" written with Iris Berry,
Feel Free Press, Forthcoming.

2004 Underground Voices