Thursday, May 28, 2015

Three Short Poems From Detached Retinas

Letter To the Vatican

This is a photograph of my cat
Sir Christopher Wren,
Who died when the Pope came
To town last Thursday.
He was one of the last great
Gnostic scholars and loved
Tuna and cream.
Do not believe
That I will forget this.
-Thomas L. Vaultonburg

Four Days Into Night

Pull down the moon,
I want her for my poem.
What. it's morning already?
Then drag down the sun for lunch,
I'm in the moon for something spicy.
Not answering the phone?
Maybe I'll just order take-out
And go to bed.
What, the sun and moon
In my bed fucling!


A hugely funny word
Considered literally
In its first instance must
Have been hysterical
"Your mine is under mine"
Then ethnic gesturing
And a court battle.

Zombie Logic
If you look you can probably find a link to buy this or another one of my books.

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