2 Poems by Jay Sizemore

Living here

is like watching Scarlett Johansson take an infinite shit
into Thomas Jefferson’s dusty eye sockets.
It’s the Great American Novel written on a matchbook
that will set the Constitution on fire.

Living here is living in a perpetual eating contest
where the only trophy is pride
and cancer is a rite of passage. It’s a roulette wheel
of schools, with a bullet instead of a marble.

Black lungs and yellow water.
It’s a church erected to Clint Eastwood and John Wayne
with pews of homosexual bones
and Native American peace pipes made into crosses.

All of my heroes are alcoholics or dead alcoholics.
All of my dreams are about sex.
All of my life is filling a casket with dollar bills.
All of the dollar bills will not pay for the funeral.

Living here is a Grand Canyon full of aluminum cans.
It’s all Citizens United in song, a song only dogs can hear.

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“Old West” image by Flickr user Rennett Stowe

The day North Korea banned poetry

James Franco shed a tear, smearing the letter “q”
in his stern letter to Kim Jong Un.
Of course Franco writes his letters by hand,
by candle light if possible,
with a quill feather pen and ink well,
his fingers stained purple,
as if he has been eating plums.
He sends his letters by carrier pigeon.
Then he puts his penis in a paper sack
and writes “Not Fucking Any More”
on the bag with a sharpie.
Only men who have been raped
will get the joke. In his letter, James says,
“I once saved the world while high
and wearing a shirt that hadn’t been washed
for at least seven days. I made Eddie Murphy
laugh, so your laws have no power over me.”
North Korea banned laughter,
along with dioramas of dictators
dressed in drag. This put Russell Brand
out of business, so he started making t-shirts
asking for revolution. Franco tweeted his support,
which Seth Abramson re-tweeted,
and then someone wrote a think piece
on the significance of paperless billing.
Everything is connected because everything
is made of atoms that bond or don’t bond
and at that level of existence James Bond
has his license to kill revoked.
My collection of atoms wants to bond
with your collection, and that means
I want to fuck you. Isn’t that what life
is all about, until North Korea bans fucking,
and then James Franco stops writing
poems, which is what North Korea really wants
because metamodernism is a terrible joke
that people only pretend to get.

20141026_234021Jay Sizemore brought the high-five out of retirement. He still sings Ryan Adams songs in the shower. Sometimes, he massages his wife’s feet. His work has appeared online and in print with magazines such as Rattle, Prick of the Spindle, Revolution John, Menacing Hedge, and Still: The Journal. He’s never won an award. Currently, he lives in Nashville, TN, home of the death of modern music. His chapbook Father Figures is available on Amazon.