"Maxwell Demon Bottle" - Ezekiel Black

"Maxwell Demon Bottle" - Ezekiel Black

Bleach [ME blechen < OE blæcan “whiten,”
deriv. of blāc “radiant, ablaze,” originally,
“without hue,” e.g. “He saw the firelight,
the brilliant beams that brightly shone.”
blāc alt. sp. of blæc, cf. BLACK]
An argument in barefoot
to track a rabbit in the young snow,
a rabbit smoking a tavern pipe.
Lampblack from the gaslight,
marrow and pitch, the portcullis.
Sirrah, sirrah, sirrah, obelus.
Black [ME blak < OE blæc, “jet, dark,”
also n. “ink,” e.g. “The guest slept inside
until the black raven, blithe of heart,
bode Heaven’s bliss.”] Black and white
tap the root, the salamander’s tongue.

"Maxwell Demon Bottle" orinally appeared online at N/A. Ezekiel Black is the featured poet at the next Word of Mouth open mic, Wednesday November 6 at the Globe in downtown Athens. Sign-up for open mic is 7 p.m. at the bar and readings begin at 8 p.m. upstairs

"Everyone Gets Lighter" - John Giorno

"Everyone Gets Lighter" - John Giorno
(December 4, 1936 – October 11, 2019)

Life is lots of presents,
and every single day you get
a big bunch of gifts
under a sparkling pine tree
hung with countless balls of colored lights;
piles of presents wrapped in fancy paper,
the red box with the green ribbon,
and the green box with the red ribbon,
and the blue one with silver,
and the white one with gold.

It's not
what happens,
it's how you
handle it.

You are in a water bubble human body,
on a private jet
in seemingly a god world,
a glass of champagne,
and a certain luminosity
and emptiness,
skin of air,
a flat sea of white clouds below
and the vast dome of blue sky above,
and your mind is an iron nail in-between.

It's not
what happens,
it's how you
handle it.

Dead cat bounce,
the falling knife,
after endless shadow boxing
in your sleep,
fighting in your dreams
and knocking yourself out,
you realize everything is empty,
and appears as miraculous display,
all are in nature
the play of emptiness and clarity.

gets lighter
everyone gets
everyone gets lighter,
everyone is light.

"My Father’s Meaningful Season" - Clifford Brooks

"My Father's Meaningful Season" - Clifford Brooks

A ruby ribbon
of fleeting light
passes over pecan trees.
Vacant of leaves
and shell-wrapped gifts,
dad and I can see the sky.

There was work,
with necessary silences.
We ticked-off our time
with the kind of cursing
that turns kids
into men.

It isn’t a secret
that those years
outdoors with my father
are only
family affairs
in Athens
that made an impression.

Pop implanted:
Good luck is a lie.
Success is not a soap opera.
Wisdom is freedom from worry.

Worked with strangers in wind,
and in snow with kin.
We all outgrew my ego,
need to be simpatico,
and in the end,
like daddy said:
Piss on it.

"My Father's Meaningful Season" appeared originally at Porridge. Clifford Brooks will be the featured poet at tonight's Word of Mouth open mic at the Globe. He was born in Athens, Georgia. His second full-length poetry volume, Athena Departs: Gospel of a Man Apart, as well as a limited-edition poetry chapbook, Exiles of Eden, were published in 2017. His first poetry collection, The Draw of Broken Eyes & Whirling Metaphysics, was re-issued in August 2018. Evergreens, his second chapbook, will be released by Lucid House Publishing in 2019. His website is www.cliffbrooks.com