magnetic poetry and prose
It’s not a wall, it’s a fence. We all like fences… right? Just look at your backyard, there’s a fence.
Look at your annoying neighbors, who sunbath naked… oh, right, you can’t see them because you have a wonderful border fence between you and them.
Fences are as American as treating ladies as second-class citizens. It’s as ‘Merican as baseball. And strangleholds. It’s not a wall, it’s a curtesy blind… between Us and Them.
Backyard border fences all around, for one and all.
Sparkle snap:
Toad that’s not a hopper
stretch this light-stopper
through frequencies of Doppler.
A full outward shapeshifter
it’s not me, but my trajectory
this shadow bike
you see.
K. Shawn Edgar | Frequency Shifter | Beams of Light
Gutter Mouth
A breezeway carries
words from worldly
buzz buzz
to bedrooms of friends’
foes flowing unfortunate
misunderstandings flagging
oh fuck it
we screwed up let’s stop
this breezeway’s clutter
of voices disembodied
bloodied lips far away
’cause it’ll be our best
days of Crispin Clover
cutting limbs a scream
a curse and you’ll say
flipping ass monkeys
fly off tongue’s tempest
for Falstaff’s a manhood
knight of Henry Fucking
Five Fingers decanting
all wine over mushrooms
all broads bubble bathing
my personalized message
popped in the making
Oh stop, you cry for our
breezeway’s now a gutter
folding in on itself
Dirty epidermis papers
rolled in mouths never
seen only heard sucking
off camera clipping time
code ’cause editors lie
in bed and behind the
scenes only heard sucking
A breezeway carries
words from worldly
buzz buzz
Oh, fuck it
let’s begin again
under breezeway lights
reopening sliding doors
a tempest a timepiece
broken—oh fuck it
I know not what knows
not me
÷÷÷
Carbon Noise Poetry 