Poetry from James Goss


Jackson Pollock Leisure Suits

In technicolor Sunday New York Times verse

they stand, swagger, poise:

isolationist dogs of fashion

choke collars, spiked heels, jello hair

skyscraper streets reverberate

cardboard silk, plastic linen, chrome sunglasses

machinery of lust

keeping up with the Gucci’s

bruised skin, subway shoes, fat lips

raw-skinned fly swept vegetables

cancerous hides of tan polyester

smeared with a thousand Chinese dinners.

To the Caffe Trieste

Long live this corner

sun hip Victorian

early morning opera

Long live North Beach

boheme San Francisco

readers, writers, protestors

Long live the searchers

souls drunk

in the well of sadness


Here’s to la dolce vita

the sweet life

the poets

tante belle cose

many beautiful things



I just want

to buy up

all the Pop-Tarts

in the store,

all the M&M’s,

marshmallows, milk

and Count Chocula,

fill up a big bowl

and float down

the goddamn lazy river.

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