Kevin Connelly is the author of "Testing the Drink", available at www.publishamerica.com. He has encyclopedic knowledge of Rap. The Newyorker works as a cashier at a grocery store in California. He doesn’t trust anyone but his wife, Vanessa. He quit smoking last year. He writes five sonnets a week. He hallucinates.
Bard of Darkness
A clod in a cleat, knee-deep in the sod,
is obviously not even a prob;
a lot, not the least, believe in a god-
a chiton clings to the skin of a rock.
An ad in a mag, I read in the pub,
said it was sad if I bled in the mug;
but what if I’m mad, fed-up or just nuts?
A fleet in the suds; a submarine-deep.
A hole in the sheet’s a love machine, Freak!
A slip of the tongue, my ship has come in;
feeling like Willis with Mister Drummond-
the beat of one drum, brung in by Thuggees,
but there is no jungle or Thuja trees;
just me eating subs and Thugs in these streets.
Blue Dress
A clause in a law, that I phrased for Faust,
in case there is doubt, or cause to forget,
who payed for your blouse, then wore it in jest,
just to make sure it was fit for a joust.
A day in a court, I swore my account,
while pacing the floor- it felt like a shore;
the claws of a paw, fileting a sole,
or is it a craw, that’s basted in sauce?
I’m tasting it raw, as I praise the lord,
the slayer of souls, I say it in Lowell:
"Is a race a flaw? A pore on a face?
A tape that is paused, while playing a song,
delaying a chord; a string in a piece,
will reach an accord, at least, there is peace!"
Purple Label
The paws of a cat are holding the law
on paper, there’s ink: a dish served gratin.
"There’s layers, I think; with words in Latin!"
If I heard applause, I deserve this gaud!
My mask’s a grimace, alas- it’s gratis;
my task is finished, it stands in granite,
baked as it basks in all the sun’s grandeur.
Perhaps a witness, if asked to grant your
highness a wish to suit your grand jury,
would thread his needle to take in the ass!
A snake in the grass, or is that an asp’s
inaudible jazz? An artist awry,
turns his face away, in awe of the act;
it’s hard to deny- but soft to accept!