Pete Spence
Cleaning Cacti by Candlelight.
the brothers grimace
at the metal ferule
dragged in for a moment
and let rot for days
you chuck berries into a bowl
from the top of a ladder
its a short ladder cut in half
by your pressing need for accuracy
a map of Australia is pulled
like a rabbit from a hat
startles the magician once again
o habit! o hat rack! o laundromat!
the French Alps are delivered
to your front door they are gift wrapped
the dead skier walks slowly back
to his delivery van and drives away
fester festoon KonTiki Railway
good morning slipstream the oxygen
tent is a little hazy this morning though
clearing up on the eastern horizon
the franchise for Elegant
Icepicks in South America has
finally closed one sale in near
100 years is certainly unsustainable!
the Dervish Society is in a spin turning
the sand traps of a golf course
into glass and a lake into steam!
what an experience thought the lake!
a rest-room is (yawn) sleeping
in a hammock worn out
by a herd of Wildebeests
in town for a concert
the brothers rot for a moment
after being dragged for days
through a Russian novel
as grim as metal
meanwhile back at the destination
the arrivals approach like a dust storm
while the staff polish the cacti
and the few remaining rocks
Pete Spence was born in 1946. He is a poet, visual poet, and filmmaker, and has worked in various jobs to cover the ongoing deficit. He is currently retired from work but not from any of the above.
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Cleaning Cacti by Candlelight.
the brothers grimace
at the metal ferule
dragged in for a moment
and let rot for days
you chuck berries into a bowl
from the top of a ladder
its a short ladder cut in half
by your pressing need for accuracy
a map of Australia is pulled
like a rabbit from a hat
startles the magician once again
o habit! o hat rack! o laundromat!
the French Alps are delivered
to your front door they are gift wrapped
the dead skier walks slowly back
to his delivery van and drives away
fester festoon KonTiki Railway
good morning slipstream the oxygen
tent is a little hazy this morning though
clearing up on the eastern horizon
the franchise for Elegant
Icepicks in South America has
finally closed one sale in near
100 years is certainly unsustainable!
the Dervish Society is in a spin turning
the sand traps of a golf course
into glass and a lake into steam!
what an experience thought the lake!
a rest-room is (yawn) sleeping
in a hammock worn out
by a herd of Wildebeests
in town for a concert
the brothers rot for a moment
after being dragged for days
through a Russian novel
as grim as metal
meanwhile back at the destination
the arrivals approach like a dust storm
while the staff polish the cacti
and the few remaining rocks
Pete Spence was born in 1946. He is a poet, visual poet, and filmmaker, and has worked in various jobs to cover the ongoing deficit. He is currently retired from work but not from any of the above.