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I cannot promise you I’ll write about this
I cannot promise you I won’t
I cannot promise you I’ll write about this
I cannot promise you I won’t
It’s fair to say I know a thing or two
about the art of leaving something good.
However, I would like to stay with you.
I may not be deserving, sweet, or true
but with me you’d be unmisunderstood.
It’s fair to say I know a thing or two
about the bitten hand. And I may woo —
I too have stooped to doing what I could,
however I would like, to stay with you.
It won’t redeem my soul, that benthic blue
ifreet, for never knowing what it should.
It’s fair to say. I know a thing or two
about the wish economy though, too;
I’ll spend the night that I saved up. I would,
however, I would. Like, to stay with you
is sweeter than a world-engirdled view.
So of this hollowness, pariahhood,
it’s fair to say I know a thing or two.
However, I would like to stay with you.
~
Another exercise in making the same words mean different things. With the help of Richard Kirby on the refrain.
A haiku for the wrong season.
~
If you need somewhere
safe to come down, I wrote my
address in your phone.
You left your pills on the counter like
you meant to take them.
Dear All,
Reckoning editor Michael J. DeLuca interviewed me about bees, and also about that story I wrote for Reckoning 1. In case you’re wondering, who’s that mysterious figure behind the mask? you should click the following link to enlighten yourself: reckoning.press/johannes-punkt-interview-the-bumblebee-makers-kiss/
Over on the site, you will also find the story to read so that you can know what we’re talking about. As I said back in December, when Reckoning 1 came out and you had to pay money to read it, I’m really very proud of this story. I hope you will like the story and the interview. I say things like “The bees are still here, being shipped about in big trucks all over your continent, dying, surviving, amnesiac and medicated” and “lofty basement mimeograph pipe dreams” in the interview, if that’s any carrot.
The brightness of the music: she was almost blinded
while playing the flute, absent-minded.
Rob Mitchelmore (of jamesjoycewaskorean.com) and I wrote a poem. I furnished him with the punchline and he delivered the context, proving once again that even sophisticated-seeming poetry is just dirty jokes all the way down. I’m amazed at the result and very proud of our creation, and I hope you’re proud of us too.
Faithful readers few,
Back in the long-ago, in those distant foggy times when I had a Twitter account, I used to tell people to give me a topic, any topic, and I would produce for them a rhyming couplet about that. That was fun. Since I no longer have that avenue for boring and political reasons, let us say that you can email me at johannes.punkt @ gmail . com, and politely request a poem. Then, as if by magic, one will appear. I reserve the right to make it a bad poem and also to change the rules. This offer is open indefinitely. Do let your poetry- or weirdness-loving friends know. I need things to do in idle times.
Here are a few examples of such poetry, from those dark days long past:
Sometimes your thoughts are gold and you feel wise
and other times it’s like “…view 18 more replies.”
— On “The Missing Link in the Otherwise Perfect Chain of Thought”
You wear long dark gloves alone
in solidarity with stone.
— On “Statues Missing Limbs”
They rub their hands together not
for God but cuz they hatched a plot.
— On “Just How Athetistic Praying Mantises Really Are”
One pill, two pill, red pill, blue pill;
I’m a bit uncomfortoobill.
— On “Medication”