InvasiveThoughts.com

January 2008

Home

Contributor Credits

Letters from the Editors

Fini from Nicole

Brooke's Last Letter

Features

Catching up with Camm

Adieu from our Readers

Photos

More Photos

Drive By Art

Improv for Joe

AMAZE

1930s Poems by Shirley

Subjective

from Trey Garcia

from Coda Plain

from C. Herger Thomann

from Jackie De Hon

from Duane Korslund

Quotes

Poetry and Art Corner

Art by Laura Lopez

Fernando E. Flores

Lawrence Trujillo

John Moore

Amy Bearce

Jackie De Hon

Trey Garcia

photo by Rob Hunter

A.E. Garza, R.I. Magana

Dario R. Beniquez

John Collard

Anonymous

Reader Comments

Contact Us

Archives

ArchiveTable of Contents

1 Premier Issue

2 Travel

3 Erotica

4 Death

5 Music

6 Looking Back, Ahead

7 Love & Black History

8 Women's Hist & Stories

9 Art of Expression

10 Neither Here Nor There

11 Social Injustice

12 Social Injustice II

13 Anniversary Issue

14 Green Winter

15 Elections Perspectives

16 Books

17 From the Streets

18 Abuse

19 Abuse Part II

20 Audiophile

21 Heart

22 From the Past

23 Community

Poetry by John Collard

 
It’s 9pm and still 102 in Corpus Christi !
No soothing breezes caress the languid sea
and the coolest place in town
is the vestibule of the Good Shepherd,
its granite majesty spurning motel strips
and seedy bars.
 
A drag queen dances in the vestibule
lips bleeding like the sacred heart,
make up dribbling onto silicon  breasts
cupped in wire and lycra mesh.
 
She sculpts her hair with painted nails
her crown of thorns
a henna gold
strands fall towards the silent tiles.
 
Meanwhile bar room poets
light another joint,
and ravage cash machines
to the seductive tunes

of Tammy standing by her man!

 I retreat to my motel room;
turn up the aircon,
crank the ice machine
slip into a cool bath
bourbon in hand
and doze into a throbbing night.
 
Next morning
I join the good folk entering the granite shrine
and slip upon a perfumed stain
where a drag queen melted into infinity

in preference to another dawn.  


Vietnam split our boyhood;

 a thunderbolt severing solid rock

into separate spheres

tumbling recklessly down mountain streams.

 

You were too eager to escape

taped recordings of your mother’s lust,

a father who beat your sisters until

one night you bounced his skull

across the floor of The Beach-House

while I corralled weeping girls in my VDub!

 

I moved in more earnest spheres;

crouched over posters

dripping red paint,

resisting the draft in crowded courts

while mothers scattered mice from handbags

and girlfriends wailed toxic tunes.

 

I even played Miss Napalm in shopping malls;

 

“A hundred and one tons of fun,,

That’s my little honey bun

Drop a load of Napalm Bombs tonight!!

 

We’re talking about the Vietnamese

Stretched out dead beneath the trees

Drop a load of Napalm Bombs tonight!”

 

Yet we both survived the war;

you too squeamish for combat,

deployed to an orphanage

where you fell in love with children

you would have to leave behind.

 

I married into radical gestures,

wrote theses about violent dispossession

and fathered children

sprinkling pacifist genes on corn flakes .

 

These days they protest invasions of Iraq and Afghanistan,

I work with assylum seekers, 

play with grand children

and last week

you asked me why we were such different men.    

 


www.InvasiveThoughts.com