Table of
Contents
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It all became clear
It all became clear
as I read Donald Lev.
All the humor
from this lifeboat
was missing. Even the oars
but that didn’t matter:
Life follows
its own course.
So spare me the rowing
and pass me a beer.
It’s time to celebrate
we’re all still afloat!
Do you know what that means?
Do you know what that means?
A few more moments
of blue sky and honey crisp apples.
More Catskill Mountain breezes
and summer skirts falling.
More clear sailing
and muddied boots.
More coffee and wine
and the love that you choose.
Mike Jurkovic
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We Will Judge Angels
We will judge angels
and consider ourselves
the best among them.
Lengthening the ruse of years
by that much more,
that much more.
We will judge angels
and the consensus will tilt
in our favor.
Igniting the fuse
by that much more,
that much more.
We will judge angels
and abide by the ruling
only if. Only if the plaintive
refuses to speak
by that much more,
that much more.
We will judge angels
and never know the truth
inside mirrors.
The verity skewed
by that much more,
that much more.
Mike Jurkovic__
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The manic gulls of Liverpool
The manic gulls of Liverpool
implore their Reds to triumph.
Alert the cops to wrong side parking
Tweet, twonk, doo dee doo.
Carry the news. The hymns of St. Luke’s.
Herald the garbage men.
Welcome, wheel, and bid adieu.
Drown out the reconstruction.
Proclaim the reconstruction.
Laugh like children. Cry from the fist.
Sing choir. Go solo. Echo the homeless.
Live in the limelight. Dive bomb nuns.
Steal your lunch, your budgie.
Browbeat pigeons and small dogs.
Mimic our rudeness. Our crude dialect.
Joke of extinction. Watch us inflate
w/hungry eyes.
Mike Jurkovic__
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this stuff
To be honest,
I find this stuff
from the writers who’ve scaled
this bluff before me.
These are their words,
not mine.
I find this stuff
in the trees and trails.
Under rocks near cool, clear streams.
I find this stuff
in our gallows and glory.
In our cocktail plunder
where lords and ladies
engorge.
I find this stuff
between the seats
where writers before me
sat staring: At screens, at tits,
at bottles of elegant grape.
Their daily indictments
I translate wholly.
What they mean
is up to you.
Mike Jurkovic__
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