Two Poems by Jeni "Truck Darling" Olin & Todd Colby (in the current Lungfull!)

I Like Your Modern Outlook


There are certain things better left unsaid
Like, You are about as nurturing as a desert
& have the ordinary heart of Helen Keller
amidst summery thickets of noise See you Thursday.
A baby makes hay pinches muscle on neck. Never speak
into a microphone without knowing
who is on the other end or where that microphone
has been as, fear of contamination fondles us to fruition, rocks us.
Back & forth. Forever. But my pulse
is a beetle in my vein scurrying from
limb to limb under your thumb
which sucks (as only your thumb can)
causing the insect of my desire
to scramble eternally in a bonsai tree
(as only a hot little animal can)
when subjected, sans sunblock,
to your effervescent touch.
Let me pour a scotch for those who can't
eat--a little ray of tinfoil light reminding us
that the heaviest head is the envy
of the crowd gathered outside right now
waiting for me to walk to work.



Right Now


There might be something in your hair that
you should have a look at
your reflection in a handgun is a terrible
excuse for shacking up with a college girl
while you await retirement. Every line means
something vulnerable and stressed out so why
are the winter birds dripping blood on my plush new suit?
Me, I touch nothing but the thread of things
I hold the heart--it's tough, simple, and contaminated--
it keeps me foggy and illuminated in the most flattering light
the kind that a bloody man whose pain goes far
from bird to bird would feel as he gazed at you
and continuously weaved in & out among a 100 birds of snow.
Where then is it okay--like a broken arm is okay
or a razor slitting your thigh in a fit of ecstasy is okay.
My lover appreciates her nickname (Sugartits)
Our friends are at ease We get on gorgeously but
The birds will be worried
If I've forgotten something there's always
something in the way of being American
like pyramids and music and rhyme.