Saturday, March 7, 2015


(This feature is part of TRUCK’s Theme Issue on the List or Catalog Poem. You can go HERE for an Index of the Participating Poets.)

The Alchemical Kitchen

“Where is my hay?  Where is my benzoin?  Where is my cypress?  I knew I had to learn aromatherapy if I couldn’t see a doctor for three years.”  Charlotte Mandell

My milk, my guru, my tea
Where is
my water, my heart, my bus
Where is my jelly, my mind
my boy, my warfleet, my gnome
my hope, my library, my Excedrine

Have you ever lost your phone?
Ever had one stolen?
Do you worry about these things?
What if you could get it back?

Here is the future you've been dreaming about with ray guns, robot maids, unisex jumpsuits

Your appendix, your god, your wilderness
Where is
my watershed, my country, my gigantic bone machine
Where is
your treasure, your field, your body, your sweet spot mileage
your god chord, your diaphragm, your mouth and its cherries
Where is your rupture?

Where is
her hand going next?
Circe would destroy the world
Where is
her hair, her jealous sugar daddy, her exact location
Her sense of proportion, her bra, her trapezoid fanfic

(a)  What kind of mirror is this?
(b)  Where is her face relative to the radius of curvature or focal length?
(c)  What is the radius of curvature of the mirror in cm?

Her wardrobe, her groom, her cleverness, her stuff
Where is her room located, her engagement ring, her grave

(The second form somewhat redundantly and nonsensically asks about the location of a position)

(Use the arrow keys and the spacebar to shoot)

Where is
his critical thinking, his glory, his other sock
his birthmark, his attorney, his new skin
his equivalent, his miracles, his neck, his hometown
Where is his amputated arm buried? 

You can post anything from anywhere
But The Next Person Who Pisses In A Bottle Is Fired

At what time in the summer do the redwings disappear from the swamps?
Where do they gather in flocks?
Where is their special feeding ground?

Their argument, their relationship, their gold,
their spot, their warm debris
Their evidence, their customer service, their jungle
Their deceptively light-sounding consensus

Where is their lament for the loss of the Merchant in lightening at Pigeon Hole?
Where is their land?
Where is their ivory, their right of rank ?
Where are their laborers and the gardens they tended?
Centurians might be known Christians
standing breathless
as circus victims panic
stuck in Scream Arena butchery
55% of commuters drink Coca Cola and/or Johnnie Walker Black Label and use AXE deodorant
35% drink Nescafe

You can tell them to use a certain color bandage
made out of his laundry
to cure this disappointed picture

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