rage of the poetry critic

predictable
as shit-laden stallion hoof beats
pound white
like empire gentry

and the words coming
from the margins
kept marginalized
concrete this
cut-up that
who really knows
the origin of the beat
the sound
wasting away
a gutter’s rag
can be honorable
infidel labor

--- e b bortz

my eyelids

slamming shut
never stopped me
from writing a poem
fact is
maybe it could help
focus
someone said my driving
might improve also
haven’t tried it
yet
traffic is a lot noisier
when your eyes are closed
just heard a dog yelp out the back window
not my dog
his paws are scratching the floor
behind me
this might be good therapy
for politicians & generals
close your eyes
shut the fuck up
& listen

--- e b bortz

earth note 103

the snow was still white
on the fifteen year photo
from the laurentides
the brightest day
of that year
covered your face
with doubt
& wonder

--- e b bortz

(published in split w*sky, December 2006)
(published in Trumpet Call, Green Panda Press, 2012)