Monday, March 14, 2011


Spurs’ retractable claws.

Spurs with saffron diamonds
mined by the most
desperate humans on this planet.

Let’s be honest, for once.

These diamonds resemble white asparagus
sprouting from the skulls of Republican senators,
or garden variety laboratory diamonds
tumbling from the skulls of their innocuous wives
pumping gas into Humvees;
these diamonds chip the brain
of a Baltimore City school teacher
wondering where her stolen Maxima ended up,
how many street corner holdups
it consecrated before towed to impound,
plus the archetypal brain arguing whether 
spring breaks worship Jesus or Budweiser,
(not to mention the wings of black muscles
strewn along Tampa’s Causeway,
1956, 7, 8  in caustic unison).

Nevertheless, these diamonds also resemble
early spring rays of hope,
much like cheetah sunlight spotting alfalfa,
ah, but closer to the beginning of things,
primordial things,
quite often intimate with noninvolvement
as total noninvolvement can be.

--Alan Britt’s recent books are Greatest Hits (2010), Hurricane (2010), Vegetable Love (2009), Vermilion (2006), Infinite Days (2003), Amnesia Tango (1998) and Bodies of Lightning (1995). Britt’s work also appears in the new anthologies, American Poets Against the War, Metropolitan Arts Press, Chicago/Athens/Dublin: 2009 and Vapor transatlántico (Transatlantic Steamer), a bi-lingual anthology of Latin American and North American poets, Hofstra University Press/Fondo de Cultura Económica de Mexico/Universidad Nacional Mayor de San Marcos de Peru, 2008. 

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