Of Tchaikovsky

by | Mar 6, 2014 | Poetry

*Some of these poems originally appeared in Court Green and Verse Daily.

 

 

Laughing, my sense

Of humor came to visit me in

The middle of the night. War

And famine jumped out the

Window. I pulled out a chair

For my sense of humor and

Then yanked it away at the last

Second, allowing my sense

Of humor to fall on its ass.

My sense of humor thought

This wasn’t very funny, so I

Attempted to make amends.

I cooked the most elaborate dinner.

There was a lit candelabra. The sounds

Of Tchaikovsky, D Major, Op. 35,

Like a sloppy kiss, laid its sticky notes upon

The air. Later I discovered that

Nothing would ever make the

Seasons change any faster and no

One would ever explain to me how those cars

Could slide past the window outside

Filled with such private

Catastrophes.

 

 

 

 

 

Photo By: Billy Adams

About The Author

Larry Sawyer

Larry Sawyer curates the Myopic Books reading series in Chicago and is the co-director of The Chicago School of Poetics. His books include Unable to Fully California (Otoliths Press), Vertigo Diary (BlazeVox Books), and Breaking Lorca (White Hole Press). Cy Gist Press will publish his BESTIARY in 2014. Larry also edits milk magazine (since 1998). His poetry and literary reviews have appeared in publications including The Chicago Tribune, Action Yes, Forklift Ohio, Vanitas, Skanky Possum, Exquisite Corpse, Court Green, Shampoo, Rain Taxi, Van Gogh’s Ear, and elsewhere. Chicago Reader picked him as Best Poet in its 2012 and 2013 Readers’ Poll. About Vertigo Diary: “ … Larry’s poetry gives me the best kind of vertigo: the kind where you’re afraid of falling, but when you do you fall into a soft, meaty, sensual, smart ravine that shakes you pretty good, but instead of killing you it turns you into a Thinking Cocktail. What a scary and fine artist Mr. Sawyer is!” —Andrei Codrescu