poems by
christopher mulrooney
dictator
the discourse at San Luis Rey
ran this way
it said this morning
I will have spoken to you all
and spoken out
this piece of my mind
we have all to gather now
around this meteorite
far below us all
the temptation Captain
is to us all meandering
ways upon the stray sands
etc. and we would not all
seek as here what is not a figment
except to you
said a voice from the crowd
a Captain is as hussars all
grand and glorious
in the remembrance he said
hot sauce
piping us all aye Sir
he does his duties as far as possible
with a light smile
Commodore ye are welcome
the big shifts of bloody gusts
whistle in the mainstays
and we are now beguiled
come into the stateroom
ponder the wrack
as seen by the window
porthole rather
yonder below the waterline
aye shipmate
commodore
the big hat steels an eye
toward the main
do not refrain
whatsoever from the day's
unfortunatest ways
but praise
the cannonade that does not ask us why
port o' call
I see amongst these trees
the why and whithersoever
of a day's march
under some bumbledore
or flivver from the day's heat
with the rank atmosphere of the torpid noon
beating my breast for a long cool drink
I think I never shall see
Battingsea or Marylebone
again without a lime rickey
and two girls on each arm
fabulously
porcupine
the hemispheres collide and draw apart
like you and my heart
I shall wander aimlessly like a spent shell
and wish upon the deepest hell
that you were of my mind in this
and that is all the man would say of bliss
toastmaster
I bid ye all
raise your glasses
higher by a score
of women's thighs
arise and get you
altitude of hot air
on this wintry sidelin'd
metaphor of grace
the place is accursed
if need be and that is so
we shall have it even though
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