Poetry — August 28, 2013 12:58 — 2 Comments

Four Poems – Cody Walker

Autobiography 

 

It’s 1966, and

 

Colonel Sanders
meanders
toward my mom. She’s got a couple of closets that are, say, walk-ins,
and she kind of head-gestures to the Colonel—wait, no, that was Jay Hawkins.

 

***

 

Me

 

I’m a stand of English ivy: uproot me.
I’m a broken donkey: shoot me.

My tea leaves make shitty tea.
I’m growing older: pity me.

 

***

 

“How Beautiful It Is to Do Nothing, and Then Rest Afterward”

– Spanish proverb

 

Sleep is a kind of blind bliss.
It’s how we practice
for the succeeding century,
the one we won’t see.

 

 

 

Things I’m Not Crazy About, Plus Teams I Like or Have Liked

 

Gin & tonics and
the Sonics.
“Killed by a Drunk Driver” memorials and
the Orioles.

 

 

 

AccuWeather

 

We tend to mistrust John Boehner,
come rain or
come shine. We also mistrust
him during a mild wind gust.

 

 

 

 

Newtown Carol

 

I went to bed, everyone was dying or already dead
I went to bed, everyone was dying or already dead
Some of this dying happened, some was in my head

The dying on the outside was impossible to reverse
The dying on the outside was impossible to reverse
The dying on the inside was a blessing and a curse

For blessing just say cowardice, part of me won’t mind
For blessing just say cowardice, part of me won’t mind
A curse because the true dead left all these songs behind

Bio:

Cody Walker is the author of Shuffle and Breakdown (Waywiser Press, 2008) and the co-editor of Alive at the Center: An Anthology of Poems from the Pacific Northwest (Ooligan Press, 2013). His recent work appears in the Los Angeles TimesSalon, and Poetry Northwest; it's also featured on the Cartoon Bureau Blog of The New Yorker. He teaches English at the University of Michigan and writes regularly for The Kenyon Review.

2 Comments

  1. Pete Held says:

    RE: Autobiography, the poem brought to mind the lyrics to Monkey Man (Stones, 1969 – 3 years later than your original thoughts of 1966, just thought I would point that out).

  2. RT says:

    These are funny and clever.

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What am I?

Bioluminescent eye
That sees by the shine
Of its own light. Lies

Blind me. I am the seventh human sense
And my stepchild,
Consequence;

Scientists can't find me.

Januswise I make us men;
Glamour
Was my image then—

Remind me:

The awful fall up off all fours
From the forest
To the hours…

Tick, Tock: Divine me.

-- Richard Kenney