The Latest Flock!

13.

Dependence Day 2017

Spent the day on the road
Perfect way to see America
Through the void of Florida
Far from the coastal sprawl that stinks of gentrification
Anti-abortion, machine gun America billboards & other religious propaganda
Nationalist propaganda on a hotel tv

Tomorrow I check in for surgery
I can hear the fireworks right outside the door
As some country singer shouts nationalist propaganda
Propping up the war machine
My government fighting for the health care
That’s keeping me alive
Maybe I’ll just die
Good ole American privilege & elitism always wins
Just watch the tv
Glory glory hallelujah
Happy birthday America
To be made great again
For those that can afford it 

~Michael D. Grover~

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12.

Those Weren’t Angels Baby
(For A)

The Shaman have committed suicide
The tv is watching me do nothing
I am watching you babble out of control on facebook live
They are watching me there too
Maybe I’m feeling nostalgic
With your crazy hypnotic beauty
It reminds me how fragile
We can be, we creative types, touching like an exposed nerve
I remember you dying
In front of a burned-out factory in Indiana off the highway
All that was left for me to do was to chase off the crows
Knowing you, you opened those baby blues
You chased my angels away

~Michael D. Grover~

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11.

Tracks
(For Craig Firsdon)

They’re appearing everywhere I look
Chapbook covers
Funeral parlor waiting room walls

Railroad tracks going nowhere?
Somewhere?
To the center of the universe or to the epicenter of this enigma we call life

Break down everything
Or don’t break down a damn thing
I could give a Three Musketeers-shit-less

She appeared interested in me
Then she didn’t
Had something to do with my incessant complaining

Maynard Avenue
Clicking and clacking of high heel sneakers
Listen to the jazz guitarist weave his flash in the pan fairy tales of delirium

Craig’s cover art attracts me like no other lover
Bashes me over the head with the subtlety of a Jolly Green Giant on crack
I wanted to run and hide, but figured what’s the point when all the good hiding places have already been taken over by disease and dust mites

They’re appearing everywhere I look
Even when I look in the mirror old and rusted tracks peer back from the steam
Sometimes even your own funeral will not extricate you from the truth lodged in your throat like swollen candy or a sticky bird that refuses to be pushed from the nest too soon


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10.

Magic Hand (by Mish)


















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9.

DREAM

I saw you in the mind’s mist,
The pale grey fog between sleep and wakefulness,
A fleeting apparition of ghostly beauty.
I stretched out my arm
As you fled into the night
Before the stark reality of morning,
Then sat alone
Whispering your name.

~B. C. Nance~

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8.

Clerihew-1

Daniel G. Snethen
the irascible heathen
stole weeds from Eve’s garden
and prayed for his pardon.

~Daniel G. Snethen~

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7.

Clerihew-2

Daniel G. Snethen the rotund teacher
was simply quite an immense creature.
Of his butt it is said ’twas as big as a shed
and his gut like an over-stacked hay-sled.

~Daniel G. Snethen~

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6.

Old Lady Legs

spent youth under dark tables
shrouded by holy plastic festive tablecloths
weirdo children
who ate dropped foods, found perfectly preserved M&M's, sometimes a hard candy, mildly furred with rug lints
their grandma's had friends who were also grandma's
and the parlour's sun-dried airs would overrun
with lavender, vanilla, baby talc, and bottled pungent floral old lady lotions
their legs, mostly necrotic from high sugar
felt nary a tongue as the children lapped,
little tongues flicking over perfumes and scented powders used to mask the scent of slowly rotting meats, which made for diverse flavor profiles:
dank casks, nutmeg, juniper, ham

~John Thomas~

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5.

28 Teeth

The average human body contains 32 teeth
Including the 4 wisdom teeth removed
The search suggested was how many teeth in the human mouth
And all I can think is how many in the entire body
Where did the rest go?  When will they show up?
I keep my removed teeth in a bag, waiting
To remove the muzzle
Removing the pain is costly
Why not keep the cash?
My mouth is a masochist’s dream
They would line up for the things done young
The most pain I ever felt was the shot
In the roof of my mouth, pain dulls the pain
And you put me to sleep like an animal
But a shot is quicker than a slowly slowing heartbeat
I clean my 28, sharpen when blunt
And flash them when told to smile as a reminder
If you get too close
I’ll bite

~Leona Vander  Molen~

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4.

You Bit My Grasshopper In Half 
                                                                                                                                                                                             For Kate
  
I was in the kitchen
playing with my grasshopper on the floor
you came in
you bit my grasshopper in half
it was a mean thing that you did

your head is like a black hole of sadness
my grasshopper turned red and died
well half of him turned red
the both halves I guess they died

I suffered other losses at your mean hands
you hung my white rat with pink shoelaces
you mashed my potato bugs
you poured Cutty Sark on my meadowlark
you tore the cartilage in my cardinal

I don’t know why I love you so
you are my sister but you are a ghost
you drowned in an old cistern before I was born
and now you run through the house at midnight

wearing giant shoes that soak up mud from dry floors
and make noises like a Led Zeppelin album
some nights I lay wide-eyed in astonishment
why does a ghost even wear shoes?

~Steve Sibra~

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3.

Goulash                                                           

My baby, she pets the wallpaper while we eat
she puts noodles on my pillow while I sleep
I can’t keep her from floating to the ceiling
I wrap copper wire on her ankles

She makes goulash for my battered ears
she gives nicknames to all my little fears
she overhauls Harleys on the kitchen table
I eat my breakfast in the driveway

My baby, she licks the light switch in the hall
peels up asphalt like a black banana with her skull
she mixes orange juice from frozen concentrate
washes windows while we make love on the floor

She says, “Your job is to wait for me
in those places that you know I will never go
and be overjoyed when I never arrive."
                 

2.

Where Have The Outlaws Gone
(An eulogy for Doug Draime)

These modern outlaws
They run in packs of followers
They walk a hipster walk
Talk in smooth hipster code
Don't need anything new
You've got the same old shit to stand on
Don't need to say anything
When walking on eggshells not to offend
Don't need fresh energy
Don't need anything when it all means nothing

Meanwhile way out west
An old Wordslinger
Puts down his last Poem
He was humble & kind
He was crazy from genius & capitalism
He just let his words do the talking
& a tree fell in the forest
I heard it, I know people heard

I am sitting here getting older
Watching all of my friends die
Watching myself die
I have seen the best minds of my generation
Rotting in trailer parks
What have we done to ourselves
I have seen too much

I heard it over the outlaw chatter
They wonder if their deaths will be publicized
Terrified that few people will notice
Or even care

~Michael D. Grover~

(this poem appears within the new poetry chapbook, "Fuck Cancer Poems", available for pre-order from Blood Pudding Press HERE - https://www.etsy.com/listing/560564955/pre-order-fuck-cancer-poems-by-michael?ref=shop_home_feat_4)

(this poem previously appeared in Rusty Truck - and in Lost, Long Gone, Forgotten Records, where you can listen to Grover read it HERE - https://soundcloud.com/lostlonggoneforgottenrecords/where-have-the-outlaws-gone )

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1.

Kindness Rears Its Pretty Head
(For Cherie Bullock)

I don't understand humans anymore
I know we're all tangled up in our own seaweed
Everyone has their own sickness to feed

I don't understand this sickness
That threatens to kill me from inside
I have come to the conclusion
There are things we are not meant to understand

I just do what makes me happy sittin' here writing
At the end of the World
Maybe I'm selfish
I just feel there is nothing left to do
Been watchin' the World burn too long
I've seen rage, war, greed
I've seen enough

Just when you think all is lost
Kindness rears it's pretty head
When you're down & out kindness matters most
It might just be the last place you expected to see it

~Michael D. Grover~


(this poem appears within the new poetry chapbook, "Fuck Cancer Poems", available for pre-order from Blood Pudding Press HERE -
 https://www.etsy.com/listing/560564955/pre-order-fuck-cancer-poems-by-michael?ref=shop_home_feat_4)


23 comments:

  1. Awesome poetry on this page! I especially like 'Evidence.' Thanks for the inclusion with such talent!

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  2. Thank you for being within the flock.

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  3. So many great poets. I love what you guys are all about. On a scale of one to ten, Myna is a thirteen! Looking forward to the next issue.

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  4. It's an honor to be included. Thank you.

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  5. Thank YOU. Feel free to submit again in the future.

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  6. I really love this and hope you will continue this series. Thank you for asking. This is exciting!

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  7. Thank you Charles. You should also feel free to submit in the future, with any poems you think might fit. You know what the title and the cover derive from, right? Lynchian-ness. :)

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  8. Proud to be associated with your beautiful journal. Thank you Juliet for the publication.

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    1. Thank you for being a part of it, Debasis.

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  9. Juliet, thank you for including me here. I really enjoy the diversity. In this grouping I particularly enjoyed Erin Renee Wahl's #4 piece, "Adhesive Climax."

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  10. These are all great, "Shake Awake the Sandman" in particular.

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  11. So lucky to be in this flock with the rest of these amazing poets. You've created the most bada$$ of poetry communities here, Ms. Juliet. Love my fellow poets!

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  12. What a wonderful series of poetry! I feel lucky to have been part of this flock! Thanks so much for including me!

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  13. Thanks for including me, Juliet.

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  14. Replies
    1. Tonya Eberhard will have two poems appearing in the October 2016 issue of the Myna Birds too.

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  15. Honored to be among all of these poems! These are fantastic. (This is Jeremy, by the way--all of my credentials for these services are out of date. Fixing that.)

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    1. Happy to have you in the Myna Birds flock, Jeremy! Your stories are unique and powerful.

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