John Grey

A FAILURE TO BRING IT ALL UNDER CONTROL

BA in creative literature.

calabash to fill

fork

O

f

r

o

n

d

s

garland/scarlet blossoms.

custom/old as she was young.

business to attend to,

graduates with full honors

hang at the gay bar,

good-naturedly cheered

she was gone

that g r e a t A m e r I c a n n o v e l,

Army, no way. Maybe advertising.

horses chewing grass.

At BEST, more g r a du a t I o n.

p

shimmying u the palm tree

awaiting someone AS educated as HE

AT least she did not see me

2016 GUIDEBOOK

But she cAme lAter

by A dArk girl with bAre Greece

GrAduAtes with A BA in cre Ative wire service

GrAduAtes with

nothing much more

hAd she seen my AmAteur/vow of silence

hAs no ideA where it leAds him,

He tells m mAny of songs y love

he’s AlreAdy Admitted As

much to his pArents,

He’s old enough to drink now

his fA r suggests Army,

his fA r’s crushing

disApp ointment.

fA r’s disgusted.

His mo r sAys his

room’s A cyclone.

his mo r still tells him to

pick up his clo s.

his mo r’s

fetish for Absolute neAtness.

If re’s A cAreer out re

in homosexuAlity, spent time nAked

with A fellow student –

inAnely represent First World.

It could be neAter thAn he imAgines.

It could feel like An Army.

It doesn’t help. No one in

room is Jewish.

It is A memory not A reminder.

just intrigued

Life goes on pretty much As expected.

mAybe get lAid.

mAybe meet somebody with

no cleAnliness ei r.

FURTHER ADVENTURES OF THE MOLE

not a spy exactly,

Not a vocation though.

not to a clear path ahead that’s for sure,

moment remains unsullied,

she would have laughed

so he can put away the fake ID.

somewhere

high above her,

p

still holds u

stone faces paid about

as much attention to him

surely welcoming to the gay spirit.

than he began with –

The climb down

then it’s not making itself known.

There’s no army in his future,

get drunk together - ,

two boys who witnessed it.

equally hilarious

written by Jewish gay guys.

what would the army think of that?

when I actually made it to

with water from the stream.

without knowing I was

TO LEANNE

AMY by an AMY

of her own symbolism.

AMY did my mighty rising yawn.

AMY breakfast

we go from body parts

But AMY inexorable so I win.

But there is no pleasure

like AMY underwater

or AMY

coffee

that AMY

didn’t make

or the AMY gift to my lungs

or the smell of wasted AMY

or the I’m-beginning-to-blackout AMY

or AMY encased in analysis

or the AMY that

only dolphins sea

in their AMY environment

and the AMY wind

of what AMY might do

the AMY lightning

the AMY (formerly great love of mine)

dry as a dustpan AMY gray

THE MEDITATION Of A BONE

Or that surface ripple of sky?

skin deep to thoughts deeper.

Storm fizzles out like a bad haircut

Storms/weak/powerful don’t get it.

t i n y d o t t e d lines.

has to be plotted/forecast.

day ahead relies on

it

earth turns

we’ve made that commitment.

the joke is on the fish

the shape we give it.

waves are unrelenting.

want me to know what I am leaving

behind.

curious/afraid

like breath

determined to hold onto me

thunder’s popgun didn’t pop.

to the body whole,

unused/man/redemption,

Wait… what I really mean is black in.

here as we have always been here.

Weather fell at the first hurdle.

variable, inconsistent.

What about that shaft of light then?

Within a few

determined footsteps.

John Grey is an Australian poet, US resident, recently published in Stand, Washington Square Review and Floyd County Moonshine. Latest books, “Covert” “Memory Outside The Head” and “Guest Of Myself” are available through Amazon. Work upcoming in the McNeese Review, Santa Fe Literary Review and Open Ceilings.