Best Gentrified Poems

  Another Cruel Link in their Chain 

1.   Beginnings

Her babe was her joy, such a beautiful boy,
	and he suckled her breast till...

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Hmm...What Discursive Poetic Theme Shall I Write About...

Today (a rather brisk, chilly,
and otherwise sat
tiss factory twirly delightful
December 18th, 2018) matte
her of fact quite
refreshing noontime, while...

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The Story: 

ragged faded 
lady hoarder, 
dumpster-diving 
diva boarder, 
dancin' to the tune 
of her Dandelion Wine. 

milky-eyed maiden, 
peddles paper posies, 
masticating carnivore, 
toothless,...

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I was encompassed within the sullen lust
Of gentrified prepositions

Incomplete adjectives layer the magnitude of
My emptied valor

I became entrenched in the touch
The smile
The tears
Of wistful elegance

This...

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Exodus 
Under a big holm oak, I sat on a stone resting a little
the sun so early in the year was hot, years ago there...

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-Dedicated to all those suffering with an eating disorder. Beauty, true beauty, belies a gentrified, pretty exterior. You are not alone-


Benighted whispers and spurning dreams
Forthwith...

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Lost in New York 

Brechtian  
city of Mahogonny
within the city of jungles
we make our way

The gilded city of Gotham 
Sketched forests of the mind...

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down along 42nd and cypress street
 the allegorical prostitutes say their not street
 hookers but just a symbol of sex.

  just like the walking...

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A ball of emotions 
A twister of clotted ideologies
Break from the current
Cry to the creator
Carry his failure
Candid of reality
Drained of my demeanor
Equate my morality to...

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A dog and divorce

I had a dog, a *****, she loved me. I also had a wife, children Gabriel 
and Apple. Apple? I know my...

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Hypothetically, what if I (a born again atheist)...
tentatively took page from playbook of devout believers...

Allowing, enabling, and providing
cautious optimism to abound
thus easing grief instead
reason to...

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A dog story

I had a dog she loved me; I also had a wife children named
Gabriel and Apple, she wanted to be trendy, and we...

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Consider this choice (of sound mind) my last hurrah, 
Have no doubt about my motive so pure and fine  
See my feet dangling just...

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I suppose I have been thoroughly gentrified
No lover of the old country bluegrass, I
Was country-bred and to poverty born,
And suppose back home in the hills...

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(Garden yourself and Emmanuel 
against risking life and limb,
especially as dark shadows edge - 
of night bring dim
mention onset of when shifting shapes swim
all around...

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