Poetry Showcase from Colin James

THE ORIGINAL DIRT-BAG MOTION DETECTOR DEMONSTRATION MODEL

Like so many previous
ends of the world,
this is no different.
The roof has a barbwire parameter.
Five will get you ten,
ten will get you five and so on.
Entertainments have been limited to
a series of unspectacular alley-oops.
One nightclub managed to remain
open, if I were you
I would not attend
any forthcoming events.
Nothing personal badges
should be worn at all times.
Side view of a welder.
The inflorescence of a flower overdue.

My Passing

Dying is a considerable
slight, gone at last.
I never cared for him
a lot, pretentious twat.
Alluding to the paintings,
flowered cottage schlock.
Art for the masses.
I had to hold my nose
even the hearse gasped.
His stench extenuated
inordinately that much.


Devotees And Aficionados, Our Monster Trucks Are Esthetically Imbued

Oil and rubber does it for me,
amid monosyllabic road paving, askew.
He will work nights forever
killing some time in the cafes.
What are you having?
Tires bald like a court summons
nearly leading me to believe
who's wife is off on some glittering tangent,
karaoke or line dancing.
Chevaux de frise, have some.

PSYOMAGNOTHERIC DALLIANCES OF THE INNER SANCTUM

Hair blistering top
robes held aloft
for an intense squat,
no door.
Brother Jerome's
ethereal smoke
comes from
an unnatural source,
Holden Morrissey Caufield
distraught hero
of Olympus.

The Gang's Analytical, Synonymous Response

Bass lessons.
I don't like the sound of it.
With our young friend
and twice a week.
How to make up the difference?
Careful to walk only on a deserted beach.
Running into your X was unavoidable.
His microphone chord
swirling like negligent pasta.
I love his way of
negotiating the play list,
alternating fast and slow. 


Bio: Colin James was born in England but lives in Massachusetts. He works in Energy Conservation. Some of his poems have appeared Waterlogged August, The, Sage Trail, 88, The Ottawa Review and others. He is a member of The Brothers Of The Endemic.