Jeffrey Skinner
THREE POEMS
Wanting
Who would the sky help thinking
Crisp wrought iron shadows
Asked what I wanted
Got what I asked, more & less
Game of life-sized air hockey
Little faces to knock you down dead
Little faces to knock you down dead
Maybe if I had a look at the poet
I could upload the poetry
I could upload the poetry
I’m talking consciousness, Bub
How it anchors & tugs
Then lets out a flying laugh
O you windup machine of meat!
Then lets out a flying laugh
O you windup machine of meat!
—Iron bars at its feet—
Man alone is an end in himself
Man alone is an end in himself
Moral
Did you get what you wanted?
Mass of unconnected wires
Plank extending from flatbed, red flag
Mass of unconnected wires
Plank extending from flatbed, red flag
Little gods of approximation
Smack of flesh on flesh
I move my chair for a different view
I move my chair for a different view
If only I had sleek Europe!
Not just plugging like into like
Not just plugging like into like
Belief also chooses
A soul made of many tiny robots
A soul made of many tiny robots
Sky atilt, trees piled bottom left
Short-shorts with cuffed hems
Moral to the smallest button
I have what I want & will, always
I have what I want & will, always
The Flood
I dig for something cool
I snarl as well as kiss
I bring mother’s death closer
I snarl as well as kiss
I bring mother’s death closer
I open doors in the river
I dial a smaller wish
I don’t agree with my position
I don’t agree with my position
I see mother claw the screen
I hawk, I dog, I ant, I fish
I hawk, I dog, I ant, I fish
I prank up as if an angel
I give man & chair equal weight
I give man & chair equal weight
I whine like a tooth
I break myself on text
I break myself on text
I pull mother’s soft ribbon
I let the Ohio find her
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