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Joseph Goosey


Joseph Goosey parks cars in Jacksonville, FL. His work can be seen in Is Reads, No Posit, elimae, and other places.

 

 

 


A DUMB DOCUMENTARY


The main thing is not think of explosions.
I deserve this current state of debris. I have begged
for knives in the pew. Your shed is a scene
from a dumb documentary about torture
but really I know all those tools
are intended for syrup season in the country.
Disgusted with asymmetry,
I looked instead
at the floors.

 

 

 

 

 


INN BURNT


On the first of November I fell
into a famed bucket of rats.
We threw parties
and forgot to turn off the hose.
The hardwood flooring was destroyed,
the orchard ruined,
the inn burnt
useless as salmon
on the fifth day of a holocaust.
(I blame my father for the lack of hair on my chest.
My mother partially for limp wrist
and penchant for trivia)
Somehow my sentences are all dry.
There are two twin beds in this rented room.
I'll sleep on the ceiling
watching you dream
of garden sheers and self
defense.


THE HIGHEST OF SKI LIFTS SITS CRYING AND MALFUNCTIONED


All afternoon was spent
digging the quarry but
you already chronicled
our sweat and labor.
So we move on to the party
that took place
with the private bathroom
of a luxury ocean-liner.
In there,
the burgers were cooked
and the fattest of gems bent
over the chair
through the rocks
and into a position
of begging.


NO CANADA


This year there will be no Canada
and the evidence for Santa and his reindeer
slowly thins, is replaced
by science or the mathematics
of a bank.

I could be threatened while peeing
or hiding in the stall.

There are friends in the business
staring at your legs recently lathered
in an expensive lotion. Your gauged ears
are so silly. The cursive on your chest
is abhorrent when I am at
my kindest. Finally

I am a pervert waiting in the form
of a tiger.


ONE HUNDRED AND FORTY TWO MILES PER HOUR


The grits are undercooked and Jennifer is out sick.
There must have been a few germs
cowering in her hair dye bunker.

This is a fowl decision calling for dice.

We'll move to the city and everyone will call us
on our recently upgraded cell phone.

Do we want to meet at O'Hara's? For cabbage and shots?

Do we, do we?

Naturally, no. Then
argument
regarding the merits of a Matriarchal society.

A flag flies.

This is hardly Scotland and one-third victory.

What standing language remained
fell ill
to the hammer.

 

 

 

 

 

copyright Joseph Goosey