Four Poems
By Colin James
A Useful Method for Detecting the Apocalyptic
A fox I’m following is mange ridden.
The weather is oppressively hot.
She stops to scratch periodically.
I know her routine.
Bait gives her reason to keep it.
I lose her occasionally,
mostly where the brush is thick
and I would have to crawl.
Her hole is at best, beneath us.
I’m hoping it opens up
into a large cavern
where I could store cans,
and the water source is adequate.
***
How a Series of Innocuous Explosions were Mistaken for Lust
Like dogs stuck together
in transcendental copulation,
we’re good at it.
It’s the light
ghostly, ethereal.
We want cart-wheeling
spiralling authenticity
until our beehive hairdos are done.
Cotton candy heads
to stick under your buttocks
before I get my disaster in.
***
Hand Placement for Wave Metaphor
My uncle was fond of
dinners that emphasized lassitude.
Grabbed at abnormalities,
like fanatics avoiding the measureless.
His wife authoritatively reposed,
forever over thinking the news.
Glasses riding bareback above
the bridge of her nose.
***
Ambush Serves Them Well
The ogre excreted rivulets of sweat,
his leather halter stained octal white.
Officially, the torture was to begin at nine, sharp
but paperwork had mercilessly delayed him.
It should have been a very simple job,
had not the faerie such ungodly small limbs.
As the ogre rested on the castle’s rock
cut from hell with fire and death,
he felt a breeze like a thousand wings
and cursed their obscene devotion to a king.
Painting: John Martin’s The Great Day of His Wrath
Bio:
Colin James has a chapbook of poems, A Thoroughness not Deprived of Absurdity, available from Pski’s Porch Publishing.
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