“Hydra I”

have not received the new book of Apparitions
cruciferae six stamen salad
her garibaldi orange hover over
in dressing in orange six springs
spell the 30,000 of it
spelled by pectoral and upward glance
or adrift me finger the piano

forks thy father’s name                                  (stamen and pedal)
stippled w/the phenomenal no matter
but its own flux
this tweeter is a jewel box of turmeric
jeweled in turmeric ruddy flung fiasco
enumerated w/countenance brown old growth built
cabin and heave of flung shed shattered shed
go on down yank the plates in spur

let the war yao the governor “no native dignity warned him against the preposterousness
of making himself the prophet of a woman” (Arendt 1933)


Promerops a mouthful of bees
the 50,000 begun gun sackled the Pelagians;
apartment ruminates Governor Pela’s last stand
spent an runnied so’s as to spineless
shastered sputtied and that’s one wide
sally forth in lung puddles breathing in he heckles

“I leave no Will — God and vomit share a letter.”
He is president of a doorway
The Real built in shackles
Whore spit and gutter
“Accursed be the soil because of you.
With suffering shall you get your food from it” (G3: 19-20).
May is the month of money and shit
He hep w/all these towers
He reverses all the verses
And make the vertical into hearses.

I, I’m wrapped in handles so as to demonstrate
this loose cause cannoned or shackled
try to triple him cast out consequence
long coffees and hippie bands
fins of foam ruppy and consequentially condensed

piano make but a frinkle like a hiccup or a nickel
I play so as to Hail in all and all is given
splintered and riven sweet nothing
to rail about in split circles
cast the widest net w/bowls of bible tripe.

(write a poem precisely in this form all over again.)
my ring my fucking ring i want my fucking ring god damn it
it is my fuck dsai she h sh to she took my ring i keep the battlefield
with my pocketwatch and address list
Next to the head fitted with paper mache treaties

Upheld and fostered February draped in snow muted leaves
Stuffed with eyes “vengeance to my God is killing me”
Slittered the net yanked its consequence
Shattered the voice crankled. Slip through to the Third Way
Split-side and suppered
Baptized beyond belief so it’s not vertical
But fed my Third Side sideways sprung forth in fire
And spoke
For every four it will multiply
“Zeebedee,” “boat.” (Matt 3:9-4:22)
Again on the Second day,
A snapping field w/out the vertical
Sings in multiples what talks to you sideways?
Nothing forever sever lamposts I’m
Lying sideways looking in tentacles
Or rapping unmounted in airwaves
It’s illustrious to shackle w/mandible
Air is of sap and and all that is acute clausterphobes
In airy open rain veils rocks and sandals

Wander up and talking unattached
Flaming, destiny with a whip
Dousing, and another way
A way tho is neither
And fossils the nor
Hydra Held.

When it’s not my fault
When sullied sluice of hymn
When remnant and the visitor
When coordinate and rubric
Ascends limp and faltered
By dawn’s blue brutality

Philip Jenks (© 2001)

Philip Jenks (© 2001)