National Poetry Month : Stan Rogal,

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Dear ________: don’t (please) be annoyed at these digressions

the truth is that pure poetry bores everybody

I’ve begun w/o stopping maybe lurching & poorly fitting

often accompanied by drawings & doodles

the cat & the animals, the bird taken from behind the radiator

(— wow! such a small coffin! —)

& blood, a rope of flowers

jittery burned language

every few inches some sewing composed of dark blue thread

what chambers, what cavalcades engraved

some are camouflaged, seems

the underpart is, though stemmed, uncertain

I mean, aren’t oxeye daisies a chrysanthemum, or

reach, touch, be drawn through the

what passes for what in the street anymore besides pure architecture

is clear, the pederasts have all come home to roost

shiny vinyl instruments that probe & stretch

outside the window a curious woman in the station door

has a red bandana on her head, lovely but dangerous

her tongue from previous ecstasy // releases thoughts like little hats

** late breaking news: experts now say we will all die

due to strains of antibiotic-resistant viruses

long before we perish from climate change, well…

the dried grasses, fruits of the winter — gosh! everything is trash!

young boys are dying in Mexico who did not get the word

[please send for our complete catalogue]

yakkety-yakking screaming vomiting whispering facts & memories

my body my alcohol my pain my death are only the perfect word

as I tell it to you:

at end the world will be just as it is now

only a little more fictional

Dear ________: the ink is still wet, feel free to go ahead, publish

anyway, will forward title at a later date, you know me,

yrs, truly, & ETC… 

Stan Rogal's natural habitat is the wilds of Toronto where he exists mainly on a diet of roots, berries and red wine. His work has appeared in numerous magazines and anthologies throughout the known (and lesser known) world. He is the author of 26 books, the most recent being a novel, titled The Comic (Guernica Editions), not so funny given its arrival coincides with the "Age of Isolation and Physical Distancing," a Kafka-esque sort of humour.