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| StarPoet Newsletter Vol. IX, No. XXXIII |
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| Written by Lisa Jain Thompson | |
| Sunday, 17 August 2008 | |
 The StarPoet Newsletter Vol. IX, No. XXXIII Beneath the stars
On craggy rocks We watch the ocean night Tracking the meteors As they burn down through the sky Our breath matching
The cresting waves below Lisa Jain Thompson c. 2008 C. E.
 Some longish poems come mid-August
After walking through the demonstrators yet again
For every atomic bomb
Dropped on Imperial Japan, If one more American is alive, It was more than worth the expense. Not our war
But our dead at Without warning, Without provocation; Too bad, too bad: Not our war But we finished it. You could have quit after
Surrendered, given up, But you chose to follow your god-king Right off over the precipice. But not before you raped
Thousands of Korean women, Then turned them into prostitutes To give comfort to your officers. Our only regret should be
We didn’t drop the bomb much sooner. You didn’t see anyone in Complaining, did you? Lisa Jain Thompson
August 2008 I wasn't put on this earth to make you feel like a man.
-- Mary Bertone getting paid
The Pentagon Blues Again
Life at the Pentagon is a series of drive-bys:
This general wants that, that general wants this: Today some congressman wants to zero out your budget line, Tomorrow the president borrows your money to cover his schemes, And by Friday some jack-ass on talk radio or maybe it is cable Suggests that, if only we would reboot, start the game over, The take our dollars and redistribute them to his handpicked buds. The world would be a much finer place for him and his, Safe once again for capitalism, democracy, and the republic. Lisa Jain Thompson
August 2008 My take on marriage is this:
Why buy the butcher When you can get the sausage for free? -- Jen Kerwin
more on the skillset
Everything Inside
Everything inside
All & everything The world The galaxy Space & Time Death & life Inside the poet’s maw To feed my pen Parents
Family Friends & Heroes Their blood, my ink Lovers
Enemies The one who hated me in the third grade The who made fun My screw-ups
My fuck-ups Disaster & Success My joys, my pains My life, my ink ‘Till death part me
From this fragile being Lisa Jain Thompson
August 2008 In Passing
If Wings Are Torn, Do Angels Bleed?
Dead of Aids
Dead of Alzheimer’s Cancer Heart attack Hypertension IED and bullet Dead of Auto
Dead of Stupidity Drugs Alcohol Random chance And accident Keeping too much in
Letting too much out Black and white photos Of family and friends Wars and battles Long since forgotten Memory and argument
Violence and illusion Torn down Torn apart Torn forever All lost Lisa Jain Thompson
August 2008 Carny Slang
Alibi - A technique used where the player has apparently won the game, but is denied a prize when the jointee invents a further, unforeseeable, condition of the game. For example, a player may be disqualified on the grounds of having leaned over a previously undisclosed "foul line." Blow Off - Rush of customers out of an exhibition.
Bone yard - Place at which employees stay when not working. (called the bone yard because employees work hard all day long until they're nothing but bones).
Burn the lot - To cheat players with little or no attempt to conceal the subterfuge, in the carny's expectation that the same town will not be visited again.
Butcher - A carnie that will take every penny from a mark by confusing them and then forcing them to pay
Call - The act of yelling out slogans and interacting with passers-by to attract business.
Midway - Center strip of the carnival where the games or rides are located.
Patch money - Money used to induce police officers to turn a blind eye. Also known as juice or ice.
Spinning / flying Jenny or Jinny - Carnie slang for merry-go-round.
Two-Way Joint - A game that can be quickly converted from a fixed, unwinnable game into a temporarily honest one when police officers come by.
The practice of putting women on pedestals
Began to die out When it was discovered that They could give orders better from there. -- Betty Grable for Zara's father
In the Fields at
Of Cherished by family, Wife, daughter, and son; Silver Star, Distinguished Service, For singularly meritorious action; Buried beneath a simple head stone Beside Civil War veterans, World Wars II and I. Deliver us, grant us peace,
In mercy keep us free, This ancient cup must pass One generation to the next; In the eyes of fools at peace, Such brief immortality Slips before their eyes, Then drifts unnoticed to the grave. Six shots reproach the silence,
Wormwood and tears, the bugle cries, The flag is folded, a star-filled triangle That once draped the exhausted body Now passing from family to earth. A part of us is buried with him, Because of him, a part of us lives, An instant, a blink of the eye, Then the trumpet sounds and he is gone. No more death, no more mourning,
No more wailing, no pain, no tears; The battle has annointed his body Now resting between white headstones; On the graves of others, we stand watch As the Old Guard lower him down Beneath the sun, the dirt, the rolls of sod, At peace at last, our wearied friend. When the chaplain had spoken,
The hot sun was setting, The planes from National Grew quiet and cold, There stood his marker Where once stood a soldier, The drum beat slowly As we turned and walked away. Lisa Jain Thompson
August 2008 You never have sex the way people do in the movies.
You don't do it on the floor, You don't do it standing up, You don't always have all your clothes off,
You don't happen to have on all the sexy lingerie. You know,
If anybody ever ripped my clothes off, I'd kill them. -- Julianne Moore back when
The Penny Games
Spinning Jenny shines high above the midway,
Rotating brightly all around, The ten in one echoes through the carnival, The freaks are working the grounds. The carnies are practicing their alibis,
The game stock fills all of their shelves, The two-way joints are up and running, The calliope serenades the carousel. Swinging from a car atop the ferris wheel,
Me and a friend, a moment frozen in time, Swaying above the luminated earth far below, Nothing could stop what we felt. The round-about is quiet in disrepair,
The tents have been struck, tattered and torn, The dust blows across those empty fields Where we walked, hand in hand, in love. Spinning Jenny still shines above the midway,
Rotating so brightly all around, I remember that crystal night we met And only wonder how it all could go so wrong. Lisa Jain Thompson
August 2008  what came
When Johnny
for all of us,
every last one -- LJT When Johnny
When Johnny When Johnny comes marching home When Johnny comes When Johnny Hurrah! (What the fuck?) Hurrah! The men will cheer
The boys The boys will shout The ladies The ladies The ladies will all turn out And we'll all all all
We'll all feel gay Trr ramp ramp tramping Around the watchfires The dews and damps In the Dews and damps The dews and damps Loose the lightning
Swift the sword Hear the thunder Toll and trouble Terrible trouble Terrible When Johnny comes marching When Johnny comes rolling The women will shout The men turn out Sifting
Sifting Let us go Sifting Sifting Let all of us Die sifting To make men Free Free
Our sword
Our men Our women Our dim and flaring lamps In the lilies Beneath the lilies When Johnny comes marching home The river, our river
I -- We -- Us We long to see you When we return When Johnny comes home Comes marching home By the sea
By the sea By the beautiful sea I'll be your lover I'll be your lover River to beautiful sea I've wandered far
I’ve wandered Far from your rushing waters I love to see Again your mountains Your golden prairies Your spacious skies and seas When Johnny comes When Johnny comes Your aging alabaster glimmers
Glimmering Glimmering Glimmer gleam it is Ramparts bursting Rockets streaming When Johnny comes When Johnny Seal to shining seal Johnny Hurrah! Sea to shining sea When Johnny
When Johnny comes marching home When Johnny comes When Johnny comes Come back to me Johnny
Come back to me Come back Hurrah
Hurrah Hurrah Amen Amen us all
Amen
Lisa Jain Thompson
August 2008   © Lisa Jain Thompson 1995-2008. Further distribution of this newsletter in its entirety is authorized. Email your letters and postcards or visit her contact page at the Starpoet website |
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