Poetry from Mark Young

Today the post-
woman brought
me the ceiling
of the Sistine
Chapel. Dam-
aged in transit,
so I’m having
it repainted. A
really dark
blue, & then
I’ll paste some
stars on it.
*
Today the post-
woman brought
me three
of the four
humors. “Sorry
about the
missing one,”
she said,
phlegmatically.

Today the post-
woman brought
me a book en-
titled What is
Peripheral
Vision? I didn’t
see her come
into view.
*
Today the post-
woman brought
me the catalogue
raisonné of a
Flemish Master
who doesn’t
yet exist. I’ve
conceptualized
his creations
with the names
that are listed in
the catalog. I’m
still working on
his creation, am
using that fictional
detective from
Los Angeles as
his working name.

Today the post-
woman brought
me a lifesize full-
color effigy of
Donald Trump. I
put it in the back-
yard to keep the
fruit bats at bay.
My plan backfired.
So much orange
that the fruit bats—
dare I say it?—
went bananas &
have started
arriving in ever-
increasing numbers.