D.O.M.A.

 

 

 

Consider this place. No lamps.

Corpus delicti half light connects the man

thru the venule of the vein. There are

directions, but the exact words I can't remember.

 

Something about malevolence and decency or

the need for it. Or the heat from liquid fires

on the porcelain floors of gas-station rest rooms

where evidence, wrong and contaminated,

can be examined.

 

And then the appetite for spirals or

vorticals where in the center there is

day and night and in between things

being turned off like heat or cable tv

or self determination.

 

If two men want to wed and jump brooms

in this African polytheism, or exchange rings

in this sorcerer's spell, then so f*****g what.

Let the rest of us get on with our remote

 

selves and meet at the mall or for a Starbucks

somewhere in the stalked bell shaped cilliate.

Let the rest of us spell adventure by the surnames

of national parks where the bears eat garbage

or little bits of happy meals  from the sticky

 

hands of little girls and then buy emblems or

badges to fasten on the grills of our RV's to tell

the rest of the free world

that we are indeed,

 

FREE.

Reviews

[Corset]

That's perfect beyond retort, I so admire you my friend, I always cheer for the man not afraid to wear pink or purple, if it looks good on him , what's in a color? what's in a gender? If it's love, ff sake let them wear it!

[Alessander]

D.O.M.A. The Defense of Marriage Act.

impressive. most political poems tend to devolve to diatribes, but I think you did a very nice job here of painting Americana while integrating some political undercurrent.

What I really enjoyed about this piece was the diction.

Corpus delicti, venule, liquid fires, porcelain floors, african polytheism, ciliate, vorticals, RVs...

It indulges a wide pallette, and it keeps the reader on his toes, while creating a sort of frenetic pace.

I liked the idea of "our remote selves" which to me is, well, this, what I'm doing right now, or what others are doing "virtually" on the internet, or just sitting there on the couch with the remote. A sort of passive life immersed in a commercial ad.

As such, I'd probably end it before the last stanza - that's kind of where the poem does get a bit "preachy" , but then again this is a "political" poem, so I can understand why it's there too.

I also like the idea of being able to turn off our free will like cable tv. It is a subtle attack on pop-culture and the individual lost in the social maelstrom.

[writing mojo]

a civil union of more than words....feeling intrigued by the collective heart as womb is to birth...great piece

[Tree]

Your voice is true, clear and powerful. Whenever the poet climbs the high ground by way of the high road there is no denying him. There is no debate left; just angry, hateful hypocrites... Excellent piece, d