Saturday, December 22, 2012

A Poem by Doug Bolling


Sizzle in the brain pan.
Your eggs toward an omelet
of what diameter.

Twenty devils marching on the rim
of a single biotic molecule.
How did we become freed up from
those nitroglycerin memories
of all those bad boys.

Rolling in the flour bin
faces painted with sin
pure as gold.

Take me to your leader.
Bless me with your silver
umbrella just before it
rains down doom.

Another year.
We gather here to measure
our fate in a thimble.

Do you remember Joanna.
How she flew into Boston
to deliver the goods.

How she told her poems
from that table top
in the Bistro of the

How afterwards we jumped off
the wharf and swam to China
for the first showing of
"Superbug In Hell."

Seriously, we are burning up
here amid the icebergs
our flasks half empty
writing, writing.

Doug Bolling's poetry has appeared in Poetalk, Blue Unicorn, Tribeca Poetry Review, Hurricane Review, Indefinite Space, Illuminations, Iodine Poetry Journal and Convergence among others.

He has received three Pushcart Prize nominations and currently resides outside Chicago in Flossmoor, Illinois. His poetry has been both experimental and traditional.

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