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Sentinel Poetry (Online) #54 ISSN 1479-425X |
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THE INTERNATIONAL JOURNAL OF POETRY & GRAPHICS...since December 2002 |
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Editor-in-Chief: Amatoritsero Ede |
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Eamonn Stewart |
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Oklo Chez Sois/Oklo Chez Falls
The Muse
Sukie* was our disquieting muse. Hypocrite moniteur du lait, J’Accuse ! Bereft of her glass laurels, bereft of desks Bereft of pews, pharmacology is what my peers now choose.
Antecedents
Who drowned the Riverdale Rats? The Breweries, the Breweries. Where have their sons and daughters gone? They’re all away with the fairies. Whither away – to what fairy hill? A palace no more than a little white pill.
Misunderstandings
“Enghien chez sois and an Oklo up your own nose!” “It’s still natural, “ he replied “Fuck up. What would you know?” Earlier that night, a bouncer saw Me do origami with a receipt – That was a wrap, my Bond-esque quip As I stood bewildered in the street Thinking of Hugo from the homeless hostel Ejected from the library, For hurling abuse then books: The first through Tourette’s, The second, through the injustice of the absurd. Still I laughed to think of the book-hurling octopus In Cousteau’s Silent World – the one upon whom Another Hugo had cast slurs.
*Sukie As Cassandra
When Africa was younger by aeons Some undine at Oklo enchanted Orphic water to quicken the sandstone – Eurydicized the Yellow Cake. Proving the Achilles Paradox Of slow neutrons – The apports of photons In dark waters Bluer than the milky way Trapped in surface tension.
But, this Powder of Sympathy Dogs the nose, Apotheosizes snots to Escargotique Ondes. The moderator from which this fission of the neurons flows Petrifies Phase Two fossils under the pilgrim’s feet Along the Falls Road.
Myths of The Rights of Fathers
My fatal touch and turn towards/to Eurydice Was on paper, but no less overwrought than Morel's sysyphusian Marienbad- anabasis of my thoughts correct your maps you dads Byzantium is The family Courts !
And, let’s say/ (if) Thebes is the life you’ve planned with your child Then your ex is the Sphinx there running wild. She has no riddle to turn her mild You would-be solvers are cursed if you try
Bar-B-Q of the Vanities
Bring Your own, Beechmount ‘97
In waking’s pay telescope, The penny drops. Dreaming’s shove ha’penney machine Pays-out the lot.
“Where your treasure is, there will your heart be also” But, untouchable reason doesn’t want to follow.
One swallow didn’t make a summer; Each ring-pull was not Excalibur retrieved. Though the sun transfigured the bottles, Each beer can was not Achilles’ Shield.
Asleep, I felt again That barbecue’s infernal flames. Once more you say “Buck-up your ideas or I’ll leave.” Both of us unhappy, both of us to blame. In sleep I’d not be the one who mostly grieves.
* Sukie Sunkap is an alcoholic beverage, what the author calls “the glass muse”
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Eamonn Stewart |
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