Raymond Farr – 2 PoemsRaymond Farr
2 PoemsRam’s Blood #43
A MUST SEE! If a high dale
is nature’s extraordinary porn,
explicit is exactly cinematic.
A ram arrives in heat as clerics
inscribe desires of human gists.
But don’t forget, fluent lingo,
in time, becomes humane. Here,
“Story” unfolds incomprehensible
art. Upon “sexually a ram,”
an ion lunged, skull butting
skull, rites echoed at cliff’s edge.
Repeatedly, it seems: there once
was a ram who lunged. His
sex he did hope to expunge.
His she-goat came twice. The
camera came thrice. Etc. Etc.
But withered music mixes Cu
Fe Mg Fl. For zeitgeists are gene
pools. Eye candy, babe. Events
like spurs at a truck stop. Gene
is my stockbroker, my psyche’s
synonym for “harbored buck.”
But do I know my rational
frequency? My sublime cock
pit by the seat of my pants?
Underhanded is a frequency
I instill with brinksmanship
beneath the fiery blasts of Rocket
ship Americana sailing off
across the wild blue yonder.
Strange Mnemonic Theater
“On Golden Pond” is a flick starring
veteran actor, Henry “Hank” Fonda
and his “real life” daughter, Jane.
The storm was a flock of mnemonics.
But farce escaped a ferocious Ice Age.
Specifically, the father forgets at great
expense. The Ice Age forged a vaster
expanse. No other dreamer witnessed
the slow growth of sheer forgetfulness.
Alzheimer’s club-foot, adorned by
myriad viewpoints, focused intently
on Auschwitz and its real version of
terrible events. Or just what occurred.
Not to be wholly (holy?) lived through
or absent-mindedly. Flotation devices
appeared at the glacier’s edge. Holly-
wood’s final Ice Age is yet to occurr.
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