The girl who lives on heaven’s hill eats
peanuts all night long and drives me
out of my mind when she gets
herself a selfie with swinging medallions.

She asks for forgiveness from Mrs. Magician and
her dear one, the sunbather at Finnegan’s wake.
During the cruel war, the idol with the golden
head felt a little bit lied to
on the dirt road by Susan Surftone,
so it went away and brought plague to a place
where a pounding boogie put
candlelight under its thumb

and a pretty little girl with vanity
punched a monarch
and said “I suppose you like that now”,
so he got to a higher state where the train kept a-rollin’
into mystery and can’t get free of the end.

The way to die on Christie’s beach is
to cry every day and scratch my back
with some Norsemen who are not
that kind of girl and are out of time.

We are the sun, so let’s get together
for one mint julep and be a spy for love
because the Earl needs your loving and
wants to steal a crown from
the court so he can cry.

My daddy
turned pink and slipped on some yellow
balloons that cried and then
accelerated into sun surf,
and sand.

(Bill Kelly is a disc jockey at WFMU in Jersey City, NJ)

 

 

(c) Copyright 2016 R. Bremner

R. Bremner, widely published in print and online (Poets Online, International Poetry Review, etc.), has evolved through formal, Beat, surrealism, and formal again to his current obsession with absurdism, the only poetry that makes sense to him in an absurd world.

You can visit him at: http://www.pw.org/content/r_bremner