Tuesday, February 11, 2014

Sonia di Placido

American Cliché

 And taking the road, yonder—
without the tears of Hollywood
or 1985, Thelma & Louise snuffed out
Innana and sister dancing at the cliff, but

there aren’t any edges here, just dry
dust and my underworld of underwear
the car’s oil spilled, walking into
the Nevada brown, no, red not brown

earth, one jug left bearing the grace of
without water            When’s it gonna rain?
No one does anything together here for
better or worse–

just all dis-jointed/discombobulate/
disembodied parts just like my wheels
Stationed-in-the-hot-horizon–just parts:
mufflers, metal strings, exhaust again

Olson’s “America is just a complex of occasions”
Hitch               ride                 stop
at the nearest Texaco [Gas] station.


it is      the work         of progress
(em)braced  teeth
American dream-gloated
a whored  inter-national Atlantic
combination  skins
forgotten  olive  tongue
tenderized moose and duck–squacking:  
verbose          loon(ied) identity      lost
cult culture depraved to seven days
in a psychiatric hospital—missing pieces,
places, un homed.

Fatherland, I am native wine.
the soil here bears no salt, alpine glow,
only mushroom grows, ever popular
you now, a poplar great-laked tree.
Remember us with Plastic pins, poppies.
We say whom? What is this?  
New World.

A mob of finger licking concrete
brick beaten jovial constructions
steeled fences, forty years rusteen
aligned to nineteen seventy one,
Homeland security found in farmed divisions
A tower above treatise, a dome without roof.

Matri                     Patri
This is hard work Man-Bitch
Father Forensic, driven to Thunder Bay
vibrating over oboe rubber rings,
no tar highways in 1980 Chevy Oldsmobile
fermenting in to Wino bubbled trunks,

Damn the Father forest hunt
adjacent to wine sweat
Strega [Witch] had claimed me
from the eighteenth year
of levis jeans, baby denim wash,
corrupt slave cotton. 

I am (not wanted) sweet potato placenta
Phoenician princess coagulating
A panini and a cooked ham—Prosciutto
with late night Chamomile tea.

At airports collecting loads of luggage,
Customs lamented be fore 9/11
wandering in and out of visitations to
Water falls:
Americas Fatherland.

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