Poetry Thursday: Three for Thee


"There Is a Door by My Abdomen"

There is a door by my abdomen.
It can open if I pull a string.
The string is made of sulfur.
My abdomen is made of smells.

My dad is made of whistles.
My mother is made of bells.
My body is made of thistles.
My brain is made of hair.

There is a door by my hair.
It can open if I tug a stick.
The stick is made of gravy.
Hard and old and ready to eat.

I don't eat it though.
It's hard on my abdomen.
It's whistles and bells.
My parents wouldn't want it.
They don't know gravy well.

No, we would eat gormeh sabzi,
or rice with lima beans.
My dad's beard filled with white.
Always socks on his feet.
No one talked during dinner.
No one made a peep.

Cold floors.
Carboard boxes.
Legos on the ground.
I built a ship and smashed it up.
I built a lego town.
I built the hand, the feet, and nose.
I built this heart to meet a rose.



Melt me. Slay me. Take me. Give me. Grate me. Cheese me. Latka. Latke. Overtime. Matza. Mayflower. My flower. Gin Blossom. Holy bottom. Wave got em. Hell hide em. I am um um um. Save yum yum yum. I un un un. Spell. Spell. Spell. Name Name Name. P P P. Rooz Rooz Rooz. Rose Rose Rose. Rise Rise Rise.


"U Drive, Me Shift"

U Drive
Me Shift
His Wife
His Shit
My Life
Your Lip
Why cry?
Sink ship
So dry
So drip
My Life
To Try
To Fit
U Win
I Bow
I Am


Lynn said...

Hi Pirooz. These are really interesting. I like the first piece especially well.

Pirooz M. Kalayeh said...

Mmmm. Cool. I dig "U Drive, Me Shift." That is the shiz nit. I like "Rose" too. She is a cool girl.

What are you up to Sprigalicious? How's Loveshack?

I am deep into this new comic book now. It's about Booty Calls, Love, and the art I find inside a Thimble with Wings.

Right now, at this very moment, the post-production crew is buzzing around me. They are discussing tapes and digitizing.

I am not dicussing digitizing. I am writing to Spirgs. I am telling her that she is cool, and I am proud of her for starting Poetry Thursday. How cool, eh?

Writing is fun. Rum and cokes are interesting. Love is delicious. Annihilation is a word I might be able to spell correctly.

U r Sprigs. U r pretty in your picture.

I, Pirooz.
I love Sprigs.
I is slippery.
I is like a fish.
I swim.
I cross river.
I trout.
I swim.

U fish too?

We swim together.
We look for bugz.
We eat.
We fish.

Fish for each other.
Fish for others.

The nest to grow.
The eaglets to wander.
The mating to happen.
The love to continue.

Our hearts to beat.
Our heads to feet.
Our meat to meat.
Our taste to taste.
Our feed to feed.

Hue mon
Hue mon
Hue mon

Hue mon.

This is a poem for Sprigs.
This is how it ends.
This is what it means:

U is I is We is I is U.

Give my best to your chubby hubby. I'll catch you on the flip, yo.