Tag: Zeke Greenwald poetry

Poetry

Martial Arts by Zeke Greenwald

No, no, I can imagine! Many days henceThere was an after-school program to learn self-defense.At the corner with the long shop window,Sensei George kept the local dojo. Like Adventists in their storefront worship,See us children behind glass learn to vanquish! Then superlative George at lesson’s endIn grave oration conveyed the disciplineAnd restraint we’d now be most needful ofThat our fists were turned to deadly weapons. The … Continue reading Martial Arts by Zeke Greenwald

Genna RivieccioLeave a comment
Poetry

Inconvenience by Zeke Greenwald

There appears to be an inane assumption,When we prize too dearly the groans people makeAnd their pain and complaint and compunctionOf some less tender portions of their fate; It would seem that people don’t like the bother;I’ve met young women afraid to leave their roomsBecause they know what a burden they are to others:They believed too well the words others used.  Just look at the … Continue reading Inconvenience by Zeke Greenwald

Genna RivieccioLeave a comment
Poetry

Dead by Zeke Greenwald

Every morning from his roomI can hear the deed:Boaz at his Jewish prayers,Bound in phylacteries. He is dead, who doesn’t wantComfort from someone;Ajax called out to the skies, notFor god, but for his mom. In my neighbors’ yards, their dogsAre left there all alone:And if you’d walk past you’d sayThere was no master home. Dogs don’t deal in silent prayers,That’s why they psalmodizeAbandoned in their … Continue reading Dead by Zeke Greenwald

Genna RivieccioLeave a comment
Poetry

Bubonic Colonic by Zeke Greenwald

Blood gets transfused into my veinsFrom a bag which from the ceiling hangs;Some pipettes from the bottom runLike legs with someone else’s blood. So the maroon cephalopodFloats from the pole it’s fastened on;Staved by a hook, it makes a squid,Who slowly bleeds out drip by drip;I lay below the drying fishOf plastic bag with blood in it. What is blood, but such basic stuff,But blood’s … Continue reading Bubonic Colonic by Zeke Greenwald

Genna RivieccioLeave a comment
Poetry

Chemical Imbalance by Zeke Greenwald

Were those really bats we sawover the Hinterhof?Or were they birds swirlingto show the evening off? And was it really hemlockWhich grew around the lake?Or was it an umbellifer,Which it wouldn’t kill to take? Was it really all that grey?Were the streets at night so dark?If Berlin was so morose,Luke, I need not pine at all. Yet German doctors wrote you rosesTo combat your stress.And … Continue reading Chemical Imbalance by Zeke Greenwald

Genna RivieccioLeave a comment