Juror 17

feet
where are my feet
squaw squaw
a flutter in the street
leaving me aching,
undelivered and all,

Juror 17 was a real treat
I puff away at one
in the bathroom of
city hall.
"Well, I can be
very empathetic."

and all the
attorneys simultaneously
jot,
     black waves
then back to yr smile
        energetic

"17!"
I cried
out.

A Neil Poem

by Neil Schaaf

Don't overcome
don't find peace
don't find paradise
not on the mountain
but in the city
live with the derelict
at home with the filth
you are here to suffer
don't escape your suffering
Eat the shit, taste the shittiness

whole thread

was I like an office
that and meds
I'll take it from there
my then position

the pond frog cannot contemplate the oceans
how can I understand the universe?
or Juliette's poems?
or a vat of vinegar?

can we mirror heaven
only through strict ritual
I bethought
"do not foll."

I'ma go have a smoke and think it over.

"fwd-operating-base:  this striving for tone of "manic insouciance" -- I can see/hear the striving. Certain lack of discipline in terms of stringent writing that is somewhat interesting, but then not.  I wanted to like these poems, but in the end couldn't."

shut

no head
for theory      ing
just poetry

up

no, baby

ideas fell down beside you
major flowers not knowing
what they are

invading me with their perfumes
I am blue from inside out
drawn til dawn

all things organic accumulate
in strange breaking skies
grumbling my name

Wednesday in those arms myself
Spring tiger germinates
open straying abandon

the wood-road resembles you
long local women drag boulders
and weep and still cannot compare

how!
all that shit in the world
gathered together w/o (r/l/d)
respite (heehee)

I was love swung
at breakfast zapped
waiting at the water
for company

it sd nothing about
flipping thru stouts
which bittered my tongue throughout

in the middle of it all
my uncle calls
to interrupt