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week of February 9 - 15, 2004



Joel L. Young and Kate Salvino




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Death of a Mauve Bat! | Sinzibuckwud! | We Put Things In Our Mouths | A Man With No Teeth Serves Us Breakfast
I'd Like to Bake Your Good | Stolen Mummies| Brendan Constantine is My Kind of Town | Up Liberty's Skirt | Feeding Holy Cats | Mowing Fargo
I'm a Jew, Are You
| Lizard King of the Laundromat
| I Am My Own Orange County | Paris: It's The Cheese | Poetry Super Highway
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Joel L. Young
Joshua7786@aol.com

Bio (auto)

Joel L. Young is an author of several books of poems (Synergebooks.com) from Middleburg, Florida. A columnist with a eclectic tastes in politics, sports, music, and history. His first trade book American Lyricon: A Poet Sings of America won best poetry EPPIE in 2003.

Visit Joel on the web here.

The following work is Copyright © 2004, and owned by Joel L. Young and may not be distributed or reprinted in any form whatsoever without written permission from the author.

Watching Carnivals

I'm an old timer and a child at heart
watching dwarves play with tarot cards
passing the time in a romantic interlude
with all passersby of women and men,
strange magicians with dancing sticks
turn tents of wonder into marionette shows
to play for mass crowds who stare stone faced
at 3D cardboard cutouts of a crowd
sitting in laughter, staring back at them.

I sit there on my steel chair
listening to the barker tell his tales.
The bearded lady and the clairvoyant kiss
with their make up on, charming in their
coupling as man and wife
while clowns serenade play violins with no sound.
Conjoined sisters dance and hum
to the silent symphony in their minds
smiling with the glow of a firefly's delight.

I sit at the wonder and look for reason
feel envious to join the party.
A freak to my own heart; I hustle
to catch the tie me downs breaking from a tent
pound it back down into the ground
with the might of a thin man; unfold chairs
for the faith healer to come ease the torment in my mind.

I sit and hope, wish to be released from my cage
as the man with the aluminum soul
who can be manipulated with a single touch
to reveal the empathy of all things.

Only the mime knows the true me
she's never said a word
yet we talk in our dreams
ride ferris wheels under the sea
and have made love beneath the willows
where Eden's garden follows the river
beyond purgatory's gate.
The night leaves me restless
I cannot sleep for I watch the carnival
and the evil and goodness of all souls.


I Am the Corn

I am the corn
drifting in the wind.
Crossed in the crow's eye
being consumed alive
by trials of fire

I have seen man lonely
bearing his resemblance
in a scarecrow's soul
holding his babes
in the ancestors' cradle

I have been tasted by
the gods of the Maya
been ground into grain
and baked in the ovens
of the immortal star

I am the corn
the blood of the lamb
the grape in the wine
man without envy
historian of the milky way


Kate Salvino
KBSalvino@aol.com

Bio

My name is Kate Salvino. I live in Malibu, CA, although as the result of an impending break-up I may soon live in the back of my station wagon. When not pursuing poetry, I burden myself with the impossible task of trying to reinvent myself. The latest creation has left me wearing the suit of a mortgage broker.

The following work is Copyright © 2004, and owned by Kate Salvino and may not be distributed or reprinted in any form whatsoever without written permission from the author.

A Few Days Later

They told me I stole her car,
bit her hand and took the keys-
That my punch missed, but spit
like rotting egg had stung her face
that I called my dealer, then dad
I had said “goodbye, I love you,”

They said I went to Rite-Aid,
barefoot and bleeding,
I stole men’s sandals
bought beer, two bottles of Tylenol
some Sominex and gum,
all while bleeding.

They told me some man
saw me vomit in a parked car,
windows rolled up, undigested
pills rolling off my tongue
like Pez from a dispener
my head hanging on the steering
wheel- an empty piñata.

They told me I was belligerent
eyes rolling to white, vitals failing,
cocaine running my veins
like fierce angry rapids.
They told me my liver was failing
and to grow the fuck up.


Stiffed

You hampered me
like a stiff dick
in baggy pants
in public.
My coffee
that morning
tasted like heroin and sin.
I wished for someone
to remove me--
turn out the lights!
Do something with this erection!
I’m a woman for crissakes!

Death of a Mauve Bat! | Sinzibuckwud! | We Put Things In Our Mouths | A Man With No Teeth Serves Us Breakfast
I'd Like to Bake Your Good | Stolen Mummies| Brendan Constantine is My Kind of Town | Up Liberty's Skirt | Feeding Holy Cats | Mowing Fargo
I'm a Jew, Are You
| Lizard King of the Laundromat
| I Am My Own Orange County | Paris: It's The Cheese | Poetry Super Highway
Rick's Bookmarks |
Cobalt Poets | E-mail Rick | Upcoming Readings | Who The Hell Is Rick