jupiter in the house of dust and luck

tom sawyer in outer space, copyright ziggy zagmyer

four hundred and eighty-three million miles from the sun
jupiter is too far to hitchhike 
buses don’t go there
so i wear jupiter striped sunglasses
drive a jupiter colored jalopy 
swerve wide and reckless down open highways
        so raindrops can’t find me
i’ve got expired tags
i’ve got weak brakes and a blown cylinder 
i’ve got passengers who need to get to jupiter
he is radio free universe
        she is a bootdagger blonde
he is a falcon hunting peacocks 
        she is the ace of flames
he wants to be sid
	she wants to be nancy 
(blackeyed boy down in the basement
pretends the furnace is a spaceship
he’s got snacks and supplies and a perfect place to hide 
no atmosphere, no gravity, and no angry fathers 
	on jupiter’s loving moons, roger that, houston)
she plays violin like a cricket in a stormdrain
	he plays mandolin like a weapon of mass destruction
she is a bottle of illegal fruitsugar
	he is risking addiction
she throws rocks at god
	he catches them when they fall 
(on jupiter, jesus is nobody’s sacrificial lamb
        just a man, union carpenter
throwing boy-minded smiles at his beautiful bride
his wild-lings wilding on the beach, splash! a purple sunrise
would you tell him it’s all illusion?
would you deny him one uncrucified daydream?)

she is a gang of runaway government horses
he was born and raised in the age of cartoon philosophy
(zen and the art of why did the chicken cross the road)

as we cross the rubicon
we jettison our credit cards and raise our freak flag 
	now we all ride in a phantom cadillac 
misfit pixie kids playing grab-ass in the backseat
the blackeyed boy rides shotgun
i hit cruise control and fiddle with the radio
	bobblehead jesus sings along
                (run little rabbit run)
in the glovebox: band aids, rolaids, boomerangs 
paper airplanes, other random things, and 
	mona lisa’s missing mood ring 
earth gets small in the rearview 
we won’t lament that cement armpit
not with ten more miles to go 
	so raise a glass of aftermath to the devil
	pour some out for the tax collector 
	say a prayer for the prairie dog king
		and all his kingdom come
	dust to dust and luck to luck
ten thousand heavens open up and we fly in
like summertime miller moths 
a millionbillion

posted for shay’s word garden word list/ferlinghetti and earthweal


your love is like sniffing glue in abandoned playgrounds
your love is like running thru hell with
		naked feet
your love is solving complicated math with broken fingers
		and broken toes 
400 million trillion blackholes in this universe
all of them in denver 
		all your accidents end
in denver, you’ve got asphalt and postcards in your pocket
you’ve got lilacs in your hair 
your love is playing with snakes 
you burn your candle from both ends and the middle 
you burn your candle like you hate candles 
		your love is like a puddle of gasoline
you can swallow your heart and start over  
your bullet holes are filled with black noise 
you can play a blue guitar
a heartbeat and a bruise, a heartbeat and a bruise  
                you can play a green tambourine 
you can play a goddess in a tight sweater and jeans on a mission
from heaven to find reason and ruin in a single drop of rain 
                you can play dumb 
heartbeat and a bruise, heartbeat and a bruise
love is a blue guitar you drag around by the neck
400 million trillion broken hearts in denver
                all of them yours 
you play dirty pool and you’ve got dice up your sleave
your laughter is clattering and witchy and itching all the right spots 
                but your soup is cold 
no one knows where you came from
your star name is papier-mache angel
your earth name is catastrophe spiral 
fate is a chimera 
		you are prodigy of chimera   
your eyes are haunted gloomy kamikazes
you drink kamikazes
you throw kamikazes at everything that gives you pain
your love is throwing side-eye at the world
                your love is a one-eyed horse in a snowstorm 
your love is like rust falling off a truck parked on the side of the road
		next to a junkyard
your love is like looking for a black cat in a dark room that
ran away years ago chasing blackbirds into blackholes in the
		darkness of denver
you love is something
	more than
		and less than
	and other than

posted for shay’s word garden word list

posted for the sunday muse

Ziggy’s Spoken Word Museum

Ziggy’s Spoken Word Museum

Showcasing a wide range of poetry through the medium of “spoken word”, any poem that is spoken outload, sung, chanted, cried-out or howled. This is a database of sound recordings and videos by Spoken Word Artists, in their own words, modern and old, all styles and modes, for your listening pleasure…

Including: Maya Angelou, Jack Kerouac, Mary Oliver, Billy Collins, Joy Harjo, Carl Hancock Rux (featured above) and more, I’m always adding more.

Listen to poems from poets you would not normally think of as “spoken word”, hear them from a new perspective.

If you like this idea and would like to add a poet/artist to Ziggy’s list, just let me know!

Ziggy’s Spoken Word Museum