Friday, February 3, 2012

4 poems || John Pursch

Benzene Drift

Trees abound in forested shelves of clansmen and valued familial torrents; pealing laughter gnaws the bark and strips the saplings with every casual remark, pitting underlings and rote dismissal’s hapless rogues against the vast assemblage of temporal drones, clanging closet latches and partitioned unanimity, carved in serried corridors of granitic island cliffs. Tidal moons set, spinning imperceptibly, on ghosts of future pinnacles, of promise and regret, slumped over a dead-end wheel’s penultimate turn, coupled in eternal gridlock’s benzene drift. Liquid stasis masquerades as concrete, shifting eerily in the bland fluorescence, shading our eyes from blazing rituals and boldly cruising criminals, pushing dignity as bedrock bottom suffrage, unaccountably serene.

Ift Odgie Nebbs

Carusem ad menu espapium
roatian penultium lutonial phloto phinum,
gangling trounce den merient emblia,
floutem rein rangie entusi slutch.

Carubend wem eiter scroo,
grein tchoulian meriflousal
boaper’s whest caleen.

Hoodger pon mentiwhock,
zein oyal snabinettul emper
ef dastini plen fini,
ordge coolie’s grolden speat,
whildge be spined da emulep
for craedled evulen chali,
be fiut lom oompie whubber’s
spenched of da crouli,
naughda crawda’s flechsy whemple,
kepply sen das moblie.

Whu canots prell an infudenter’s
leinest wetche of clampen bleath?
Vas genden zown der pendercroun
ift Odgie nebbs a keiler?


Crescents spend return vouchers on version fuel for cantering coinage, blending a shaken numismatic claret with rubber stamp grease. It takes a while, but gravity finally obtains, speckling the pigeon’s slyly chosen mark with iron pyrite, sleeting ashen grins against suburban skies, reducing lawns to sawdust. Embers spool through bullhorns, knocking down floozies and hot walnut contenders, spearing fruity doormats with rank kabob rotors, jamming retirees into impasse kitchens. Flood patrols ease through incessant winter pains, flaring nostrils at the slurry of angry fencepost daubers. Immune to certainty, scientific doubters plead nolo contendere, hoping for free fall’s lurid penchant, implying lax pagination. Votive blemishes spin airy heels, slipping gears into chased pajamas. Waxed cartons shake brutal eggshell troops at canals of gelatinous mead, splashing sludge on cowboy boots. Rhododendrons ride the bland interior’s oval rip cord, sending deep-sea diversity into migratory fleece. Pollute me, frozen ambler; pickle my embryonic gesture with octopi. Collapse and extol the fiery mist’s tactical plumage, conferring tousled bellybuttons on an emerald gallon’s wayward pupil. Grant and tailor any jacketed mop, questioning appropriated Sherpas, laundered to the grilled ensign’s peculiar spike. Cascade to bestial oompah bands when eighteen-wheelers blast ashore with dimpled octets, trapping sensory corpulence for nested effrontery.

Weest Bustamin

“Etchen dawreckle, clapard spoothe,
end shurenly bemanned deflunal itchie’s pron,
wheremple laung eethe er carenaught,
sheilaimen spei,” dasten greveiner staith apea.

En sparting theim acompt touthei,
agriver trence defeint abloone.
“Hetchel atwine, mounsinaud,”
adjoued de bluence marouph.

Ai exed heroya humpulence
ef twozen cets war shoulden;
sheezy spench avoicy bloonce
en spocht a chelly malaprosen aousmess,
aket meinthe sproontin eber crocker;
blent meonly nootlie blagger,
scrutched da soilty gnocket.

Ardli whutwe woodenspeck,
knobben wuzwe hockenrard und ozomeadi,
asye canoe Weest Bustamin.

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