poem index

last swan of avon

Julian Talamantez Brolaski
socalled swan of avon
n/t but a beaurocrat
buggering the buttercups
goy from the waist up


now soldiers're the ones making offers
and fucking caravaggio posters
maybe the artist had bothered about melancholia


suddenly xe finds xemself walking down
some dark corridor


california was truly the promised land
for a minute there
video marlboro
to show us


shoppingcart in dingy water
and then turn melancholical


sign reads no squatting
switchd on the cathode ray
at yr coronation


the bomb droppd w/ regular monotony
leaving us wanting


        a to zed
dampened a grid


satyrical deliria
pan's ballet
in a black tutu


who have the inclination
but even whose   necromancer—
firelit but dried—
—commandeering meadows—
protests were pathetic

From gowanus atropolis, published by Ugly Duckling Presse. Copyright © 2011 by Julian T. Brolaski. Used by permission of the publisher. All rights reserved.

Julian Talamantez Brolaski

by this poet

poem
Cosi mi trovo in amorosa erranza.
(Thus I find myself an errancer in love.)
—Dante

All my dark hardiments begin, so furious and so fell. All disarrayed in love I began to speak of Mariners. And when I saw the grove divided into double parts, which ways I took,

poem
                                for memorial at Zinc Bar, 23 June 2007, NYC

		I am your sugarplum fairy commodore in chief.
			—kari edwards

		conturbabimus illa.
                                (Vivamus, mea Lesbia, atque amemus 
		[let us live, my Lesbia, and let us love])
			—Catullus V.II
poem

clock reads 7 at all hours
juncos make selves known in the snow
this time dawdling
I write in horse, but I see in athabascan
when it’s time for elevensies, the clock reads 7
what telling fortune therewith
time is a thing that gets spent, like youth, $ and desire
n/t so lovely as a