UNDERGROUND VOICES: POETRY
DUNCAN FANKBONER

not the buddha

Johnny Utah
sat still on the head
waiting for the birth
of one long warm turd
later that day
after the sun rose
he felt down and lay low
on his bed with the shades
drawn
in the night a storm
filled the sky
and lightening shone
and thunder saw it
and felt a little envious
even though he didn't know
the lightening had listened
for his moan
Johnny left home that night
and rode on a train deep
into the east passing many
atomic particles of air
he would not come back
nor were there any memories
of the place he had left
not of home
or the city
not of anything
not even
you


the brown dog

chains of mourning
drag me to the sea
what better place
than with my father
startled cries
of sea birds
a scythe of moon
etched in blue air
white foam hissing
past dead hands
the breaths of living things
stalks of sea grass
stuck to the chin my god
I wonder what crimes I've done
up the quay
a brown dog
gambols at sea froths
water lights
dazzle blind
looking down
to waters edge
a bottle
black boots
naked feet
all but
sand drowned







2007 Underground Voices