blue dana

A Poem by h d e rushin

for texas

I am no one else, save the beagle

in the back yard howling at the ambulance

siren......thinking its a call from God.

It's not.

There is a place far too dark to recollect.

Prez loved his beer, yet dying overlooking

the same places that he treated with purpose.

John Lee Hooker, the last of the blues men

from the Delta, died wrinkled and voiceless

like a black linen shirt. Where are the themes we

were use to? The microcosmos of effloresce,

the measuring of densities minus the belly

fat of sedentary Americans? The authenticity we

carried around with us like a mafia code of

silence or an US talisemu? / The Rosa Parks

one minute then the Janet Mock the next

both lifting veils, praising revolution.

The distribution of nucleotides. Homosexuals

on the convincing path to craziness. Plath,

the composition of teenagers, kittens and

fast cars: love, and the release of it, is as deep

as it is effrontery. I've managed all morning

without a single pop-tart, mother and her

judgement. We are happy.

If I am alive and willing to show my penis

like the chimpanzee in the iron cage/

how can I not find the balls of the catfish beautiful?

O my tender love of dreams gone bad. Drowned

in the blue sea of self doubt ("sorry Mrs Rushin

but dana has a problem"), the magi of abstractionist

suffering. Just staying alive because
Aquarius cant live without my ugly-a*s-doing-stupid-s**t:

Each and every drag queen

begs to be a princess.

If you peel away the gossamer Vajra,

dare get a word in edgewise, you can

be the same love-child of that etymological moon.

The anticoagulant in the bottom of

a girls wild dreams. As a veteran of war,

I saluted each morning at revile and each

evening at taps facing a mythical flag,

the one of a similar color they gave

to my mother when Dad croaked..

Folded neatly.

© 2014 h d e rushin

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Reviews

Corset

Tiramisu, it's a coffee cake. who ever you are, my friend, beagle, chimp, goldfinger, I'm not a practicing buddist, as much as I probably should be, i'm just a old woman from Texas with stars in her eyes, and a tattered scarf around her neck that never once saw her love without hair on his face or a woman on his arm, if you ask me what I believe in, I believe love is staying alive for the people who can't live without our doing stupid s**t, I believe it goes both ways, and like rain water runs in the direction of least resistance. I told you all my secrets, and who they belonged to, do I need to remind you that you are face of poetry future? I've never had poetry dedicated to me before, assuming and I shouldn't ever, that this Texas is mine, but ownership wouldn't change the fact that you will one day be read by millions and if you aren't then the world has been cheated unfairly.

Posted 10 Years Ago

K. Louis

I always knew you were an exhibitionist. LOL ....but on a serious note, are you like some kind of freakin' doctor or something...a shaman too..you're a witch aren't you? Your work refreshes my memory. Thanks on the tag too...I was wondering about Talismu...I couldn't find it.

For a significant amount of time, I would day dream about America losing electricity, internet, phones, Tv, everything disconnecting. The fantasy is everyone gathering in the woods and singing kumbaya...something along those lines. I was born in the late 80's...I get to read about these revolutions ..this old america..it's harder to find this greatness today, or perhaps it's easier..but people have become less mindful. I was also in the Navy, the sunset and taps was the best part.