Cleveland

By AVRAM KLINE

 

thday tadashi was driving thcorolla,
four menonites showed up with signs

that said contemporary opinion re
our use of color is mixed, come try

thmeatloaf & in this anabab booth
ye may unto all preach thgospel & eat

this meatloaf among among among,
& tadashi sat in thbooth & admired

thbonneted waitress who said to him
huldrych never saw a beachball

as ye never saw my buggy, now as
snow ye come to me, court me

in my rummy rummy home & bundle
me in quilt as wick goes & mate with me

& bundle me, & tadashi came upon th
pulpit as pastor elm was carrying on re

standing naked before his captors, saying
i come from elms along the cuyahoga,

areola crinkling onthtongue, let us
irrigate, let us make supple this bullock

& all his flesh with his head & his legs
& his inwards & his dung, & burnhimon

the wood, & horace sitting beside
tadashi sitting beside young men beside

men declared amen yah women yah!
& elm went on re thmountain zebra thplains

zebra quagga quagga, zevra ye wild ass,
he warned, we’ll lose our coats in wildfire!

ye hear for skins rattle? & reba sitting among
young women among women stood & from

her throat came huldrych zwingli did ablute!
tadashi put thjug of rootbeer inthtrunk

 

 

Avram Kline lives in Brooklyn and teaches at a public high school in Manhattan. He co-curates Readings at Milk & Roses, a monthly poetry event in Greenpoint.

Click here to purchase Issue 03

Cleveland

Related Posts

Palm tree and building at dusk

Monsoon

URVI KUMBHAT
From my window I see a boy shaking the bougainvillea / for flowers. My parents talk of pruning it. They talk / of little else. The tree, spilling wildly past our house into / the gulley—where boys come to smoke or piss.

The Hundertwasser House in Vienna

Etude No. 2 and Etude No. 3

KIM CURTS MATTHEUSSENS
in Rome a monumental marble typewriter / ticked out their story into the sky: two lovers / devour time. she lay on the lawn near Trajan's / column. he plucked letters from her dress, / her hair, served them to her by hand, by mouth.

Image of an intensely green trailhead.

December 2022 Poetry Feature: Kevin McIlvoy

KEVIN McILVOY
On mine spoil. In debris fields / of asphalt and concrete and brick. / Upon sites of chemical spills. / Along lifeless riverbanks. / In clonal groves so hardy you / have to steel yourself for years / of killing to kill one acre. / Where construction crews rake off / the surface