Just a short poem, please—
I want a fragment
of what might have been.
Incomplete, there is no end
to its becoming. In this way,
we must be careful
never to love each other
utterly. (But where
is the fountain’s irruption
that you wanted? Where
is the saxophone’s endless inquiry?
Where are the chalk manifestos
melting with spring, where,
where is the—
Infidels' SestinA
Eyes smoldering with night’s last hour, you call me a cad.
I call you a cab—(another of our nights when pith molders
with dawn nigh, eyeing us)—the cab’s hums solder us & power
wit’s smoldering engines. This nightly sour requiem arises—
hour of eye for some old eye (tonight, what cads go home with)—
I lack the shouldering wit of your third millennium knight.
Night smolders with our cadmium eyes.
Telegram TO A SUICIDAL FRIEND
Lily greetings from Paris STOP The rain is
inexhaustible STOP It makes me think of you
STOP Not that you could ever be measured by
the elliptical paths of celestial bodies but happy birthday
STOP In the street I heard a priest muttering
in Latin and it made me think of you STOP I saw
a child eating alphabet soup and it reminded me of playing
scrabble with you STOP the tiles cool and secret
in our palms STOP the possibilities infinite
STOP Lily STOP never stop STOP
Benjamin Aleshire is based in New Orleans, and travels the world as a poet for hire, writing poems for strangers on a manual typewriter. His work has appeared in The Times UK, Iowa Review, Boston Review, El Mundo, and on television in the US, China, Italy, and Spain. Ben was a Breadloaf waiter, and helps edit Green Mountains Review. A chapter of his novel-in-progress, 'Poet for Hire: Kismet of a 21st Century Troubadour, is forthcoming at LitHub. Along with 93% of the global population, he has no college degree. Find him on instagram at @benjamin_aleshire. or www.poetforhire.org.
Sound-collage and engineering by Kamikaze Funtime