Poetry from Alan Catlin


Jellyfish beach bingo.  No Annette.

No Frankie. Men of war. Tentacle

tungsten light house.  What are we

fighting for.  Eric Burden and House

of the Rising.  John O’Hara or Frank.

Aristophanes is out. Brook Farm is

no Utopia. Nowhere. Erewhon. No

matter what Well(e)s says. War of

the Worlds my ass.  Even real life is

a movie. If true, who will direct.


A child’s religious experience is a

merry-go-round. The bear comes

over the mountain.  The movie. I

forget. A Child’s Christmas in Wales

Wails. By the Sound.  East Egg red

warning light. Across the vast expanse.

Every night . On the wrong side of

the enchanted toll booth. Cash only.

No passing in this lane. How many axels.

Tool collector’s scam.  Big money that.

Once upon a time. Séance on a Wet

Afternoon. Not a good beach day.


Either the aluminum ice cream or

the luminous supermarket eggs.

Inside the Not-So-Friendly’s. Best

job I never got. We’ll call you.

Don’t call. I’m still not holding my

breath. Yale Art gallery steeped

in Americana.  Not DeLillo.  Waiting

for Francis Bacon Express train to

Hartford.  Suicide on the tracks.

The relative importance of beer and

hot dogs. On the beach. After the bomb

drops.  The jelly fish graveyard.

Buried alive in wet sand. No Swimming

Allowed. How to tell the kids.

The Summer is almost over.


I need money.  Beatles on the radio.

Not an original to them.  Twist and.

Summertime and the living is. Porgy and.

Peanut Butter and jelly on.  The beach.

Where the kids are. What the kids love.

A Walk in the Sun. The yellow brick road

to hell. It’s all politics. Cape Fear(s).

Fists of Fury, Love and hate tattoos.

Words of God.  Jesus wore sandals.

Walked on water. Was a tough act to follow.


Sleeping with Jim Morrison. Not a religious

experience. Said Eve Babitz. She would

know. Knew him when.  New word-Zuihitsu.

means writing by following the brush. How

about by following the thought. Wherever.

Whatever. Along The Narrow Road to the Interior.

I guess. No evident meaning. Asleep, I am, on

my pillow book. Not the movie. Maybe my life.

Definitely not a Draughtsman Contract.

I apologize for the eyes in my head. I dare

you to spell Komunyakaa twice fast. Once.

Oh the trouble I have seen. In my interior

journal. The brush is wet. Light my fire.


Can’t wake up. My pillow book is so

aggressive.  Inscribing pictures of Breughel

on my skin. Not tattoos. Not an illustrative

man. A motion picture. Skin movies.

Theaters of the mind. Coming soon.

Not as good as real sex. Or as bad.

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