A Day Late – A Poem

My new favourite poet. Seriously. I’ve only just recently discovered Joseph Carlucci and his blog Marcello’s Revenge, and his poetry blows my fragile little mind, darlings. Part narrative, part beat poetry, part surreal stream of consciousness, each poem tells a myriad of stories — but they never turn out quite how you’d expect. Even if you don’t particularly “get” poetry, this is something worth checking out. I believe you’ll be astounded.


A Day Late

A day late
in the mind of a gymnasium
calisthenic training
the inevitable.

Frankincense burns at the altar
erected under a TV
showing recycled 24 hour news
and reassuring
no one in attendance.

Pistol dance
a furtive glance

supper’s on the table
but the boy’s out
playing in the streets under showers
rain colors fragmenting
wet asphalt spray
and I’m still writing
my letters.

Juice bar orgy heart
bar stools all empty and the
packing breath mints in his pockets
for ladies
with eyes polarizing

Upset there was a garbage can
joined by a chain to a cinder block
by the overpass
in the parking lot out back.
Spring broke

the smell of death was awful.

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