Four Poems by Cliff Weber

disorder

men have searched long and hard
for the origins of thought—
pushing deep into the moonless night
with sharpened fingernails
and elusive wrinkles
that evaporate into sightless deserts
of decaying knuckle.

bend in
bend out
and witness disappearance
in its most elegant form.

you exist
just as the unknown does.


leaning out on the edge

The spiraling roar of a miracle
tears through curtains of porcelain doubt
like a golden comet
shot through tattered lace.

The whirling spasm of ingenuity,
when caged and tagged for future research,
crushes a lifetime of groans in a
single
violent
breath.

Life is a relay race
and the only thing that matters
is whether or not
you’re holding the baton.


welcome to the maze

When the machine successfully creates a mouse
a smirk crawls slowly upward, separating an infected cheek—
only to quickly retreat.
For now is the time of cheese;
an endless pyramid of cheddar
jack
gouda
muenster
mozzarella
and all the rest.

The business machine is a focused evil
and it always knows when to feed
the freshly corrupted,
salivating mouth of the starving mouse.


writhing pupils

distinguished gentlemen
gather late at night
in crawl spaces
and fox holes
writing love poems
to the Julies
and Katys
and Wendys

they dance around the page
sword in hand
attempting to tame the ink
like a snake charmer
wooing his slithery enemy

a few are able to control the boa
and the rest are bitten


Profile: Cliff Weber

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