Santa Fe Poetry Broadside
Issue #17, September, 2000 : -- -1 -2 -3 -4 -5 -6  7 -8 -9 -10 -11 -12
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Joan Logghe
After Horses

                 

Cracking My Self Up

The watermelon is an aphrodisiac
for the thirst junkies. Desire is
the concession of the troubadours.

Bad news sent good news spinning
and circumstance pounded the kitchen floor.

Antipathy got a handle on apathy.
Rastafarians kept hairdressers
awake all night with dreads.

Manicurists speak sign language
to show off their talent.

The elemental table got drunk at Oh-Kay
Casino, kept losing at roulette.

Even elocutionists get the blues
and mispronounce the names of tides,
ebb and high, spring and neap.

"Get out of yourself," the airplane told the sky.
"I’m all thumbs," the hitchhiker replied.
"So long," the shaggy dog story said to haiku.

Three concubines dressed as men learned to play
their combs. Will there be jug bands in the new
millenium? "I don’t know," the washboard hummed.

Loosen up your torsos, Ladies, we are going
through the mail.

What did one literary allusion say
to another? Thoreau?



Copyright © 2000 Joan Logghe.

About the poet.

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Issue #17, September, 2000 :
Santa Fe Poetry Broadside.