A reading from the Silver Birch Press May Poetry Anthology, edited by Melanie Villines, art by Gustav Klimt. Joining Jack will be contributors Mary-Marcia Casoly, Adelle Foley, and Clara Hsu. Poets included in the anthology include Thom Amundsen, Brinda Buljore, Joan L. Cannon, Allison Chaney, Subhankar Das, Daniel Patrick Delany, Donna Hilbert, Gerald Nicosia, D.A. Pratt, and many others. This is Mary-Marcia Casoly’s contribution (May 31):
Song of Mayhem
Mother may I sleep with danger?
To be sure, you shortchange me at every chance!
Mother may I grow parlance with flowers?
Not until the full moon umbrella steps on parsley.
Mother may I kiss every knot of the wild?
You’ll come to make the very trees crabwalk and commit to arson.
Mother, is your whim for your sevem daughters always so impartial?
No arousal is ever without risk.
Mother may I be with child?
When you’ve trusted your own thin larceny, and not before opening
and shutting the Book nineteen times, jumping forward with feet apart then again
bringing your feet together.
Mother may I swim the oceans in order to find love?
You must wait an hour after eating before taking to water and you must lamppost:
lie face down and stretch arms forward, bring your feet to that point reached by your fingertips.
Mother I have spoken in tongues!
For naught, you did not ask! Walk backwards this very minute to the starting line.
Daughters you will age me before my month is due.
Mother may I sing your song of mayhem: I love him. I love him, he is my frog.
Mother, may I may I may I may I may I may I ——eye May?
Son, wherever did you come from?