Zumwalt Poems Online

Archive for the ‘D’ Category

deleterious habitat


deleterious habitat

hot southern heat
  baking your alaska
the smog fills your
lungs like sand
                in a dersadrop humidifier

breathing is a function
  and we are approaching an asymptote

three toed sloths trek through the treptremanian soil

burning air and burning phylum
                    cough…
                                  cough…
                                                cough…

It is time to let me out.

— Zumwalt (1974)

determined uncertainty


determined uncertainty

Maybe!!!

— Zumwalt (2012)

Depressive


Depressive

Not really.

— Zumwalt (2012)

Decline and Fall


Decline and Fall

Chilled and solitary
I feel the Fall
A season flickering
A time cooling
Summer’s dissolute heat and aureate fury
Quenched
In long shadows
Darkly déjà vu
Gibbon scents the dusk
Crisp disquiet
Suddenly
October has pierced the city
Like Alaric’s Goths
Rude and barbarous
Yet
In its gusty fury
Lustral

— Zumwalt (15 October 1979)

deconbunktionalism


deconbunktionalism

I tear at it apart
abrasively
picking at the pieces like an overfed child
making up messages from the steam of alphabet soup cooking in the other
room

my intentions were theirs
every one
separated

my reactions were initial cause
differences exploded
similarities scattered

in dispersement is the focal point
the key to understanding
this author was a bum
that culture was irrelevant

in imposed confusion is serenity
to get at the gestalt you must first exhaustively examine each particle
even
as you fling it further away.

I am not sure why this writer hated sonic booms so in the 19th century
and why he was disgruntled about gas mileage and the FBI
it seems silly that he was constantly wondering about mercury fillings
and that soap operas influenced his characterizations.

I chop it so finely it is dust
and blow it at a hand held mirror
I take the mirror and smash it on the table
and notice how my reflection has been expanded —
absent mindedly
picking at the pieces
unaware that I am making up for meaning that I didn’t have
the common sense to read.

-zumwalt (1988)

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