Featured Poet: Mikael Covey
elegy on a prim rose
you smile and there’s not a
fucking thing left to smile about
look in the mirror and run away
dreading darkness, and it comes anyway
as if somebody cared
they got their own poems to write
using these same words
their own lives to publish
agents to amuse themselves
in the city in the city in the city
alone as if it were a word
sad like it means anything
and they write better’n me
and they live
wearing suits
like you won’t die naked
wearing smiles
like you won’t die at all
hello surprise
close the door in my face
I never wanted to be loved
anyway
it would mean something
and I’d break it
a china bowl or heart
shattering on the floor
I’m so sorry
we were young once
and now they are
strong
with semen
and tight lips
Eliot dead
like a tuber
they say bad things about him
as if he could care
so short the span
the children die
and why do they tell us that
it shouldn’t hurt
to be alive
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Ltr from Israeli Girl
Dear Mommy Dear Daddy
I don’t want to be dead
things are all just beginning
when you’re fifteen
does the world still continue
are the Yankees ahead
those games lose all interest
once you are dead
did I have a nice funeral
and did the whole world cry
or doesn’t it matter
when little girls die
I guess Condi’s coming
I hope she brings peace
and does Jesus love me
or did they get him too
you can’t really blame them
c’est l’guerre - c’est l’vie
say goodbye...to that
meaningless life that was me
but I don’t understand
so explain it to me
is the land really worth it
are the holy books worth it
do you miss me?
They Shoot Children
in the cold death shroud silence
of the cool death shroud tomb
there’s a little girl waiting
for the dark to consume
she’s as pale as a ghost
she’s as white as the moon
but her eyes are all dark
as she enters the room
and the hush is oppressive
and the hurt is all gone
and the sweet little angel
is as dead as the dawn
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6words
yeah...only faggots write poetry ...................................
so, I coulda turned to drugs
to stop the hurt
from being me
but, yeah...I guess I did that
but didn't stop the me
from being hurt
you see, it isn't them
it's never them
I hate for being them
it's me
and that's the thing
I wanna kill
and scorn
and laugh at
and abuse to death
or maybe you
were never so fucked up
inside your head
you wish you're dead
but, yeah...
only faggots
write poetry
makes you wonder
who reads
poetry
like Jesus maybe
wants a world of pain
across his back
I want to see
the crippled kids
crawling across
King's Cross
with their beautiful
smiling faces
unaware that
everyone can walk
-------------------------------------------
Writing
walking down the street
I see them
around the house around the porch
running happy laughing faces
little children
make up games to play
as if that’s all there is to life
is that me
is that you
all of us
all we ever do
throughout the mortalness of our eternities
my house is dirty yours is clean
you have more money than me
is it meaning
does it matter
to me to you to anyone
your daughter's in grad school
mine is in jail
she does drugs
but my daughter’s prettier than yours
can get anyone she wants
anytime anyplace
she stops traffic
walking down the street
I am not pretty never was
it bothers me
that no one wants me
I know paraplegics
and the wounded from wars
schizophrenic and retarded lives
that have no meaning
doesn’t matter
half-way houses
walking down the street
pitying me and making up words
for no apparent reason
as if that’s all we ever do
© Mikael Covey/UK
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