5 Poems by Gary
Blankenburg
THE ELECTRIC BRICK
Having
invented the electric brick,
William
rested on his laurels. Still,
airplanes
and stars fell from the sky,
letters
arrived laced with anthrax,
California
shuddered, buckled, and cracked,
and
wars continued to be waged and waged.
Crowds
wailed,
Look
what man has done to man!
Others
cried,
Look
what God has done to man!
And
William? He continued to believe
the
electric brick would cure everything.
EVERYONE POOPS
After Taro Gomi
Your
mom and dad poop
as
does your sweet old grandma.
Your
teachers, ministers, doctors,
lawyers,
and business men poop.
Politicians
poop and so do
the
President and First Lady.
Beauty
queens poop as do
lions,
tigers, bears, and snakes.
Even
the Pope poops. Poets also
poop. Some of them, I’m told,
even
play with their poop and
then
mail it out to magazines.
MID-JULY, MID-DAY
I’m
lying in bed naked
with
the dog, enjoying
her
licking my toes
while
the air conditioner
blows
cold air across us.
Now
she is concentrating
on
the webs and doing
a
very fine job of it.
I
try not to become aroused.
I COUNT ALL THE CHARMS
ABOUT LINDA
Did
I mention
her
tight ass
and
pussy
or
the
tight wire
she
walks
between
slut
& lady
or
the charm
of her kiss
upon
my old wrinkled
brow?
BIG STEVE
Big
Steve was 6’8’’
and
200 pounds
back
in high school,
and
he never even
touched
a basketball.
On
hot summer
afternoons
his tiny father
would
scream at him—
so
even the neighbors
could
hear—Steve,
you
big candy-ass, get
out
there and mow the lawn.
And
he would not.
Gary Blankenburg is a retired English teacher, poet, and
scholar living in Sparks, Maryland. His doctoral dissertation at Carnegie
Mellon University treated the “confessional” poets: Berryman, Lowell,
Snodgrass, Plath, and Sexton. He is the author of eight books of poetry and
short fiction, the most recent being Dancing
with Strangers. His new manuscript, The Times Theatre, is seeking a publisher.
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