Wednesday, September 26, 2012

Always Fun

Always fun to witness
a frank poetry throwdown.

Goes back to Whitman
and the absinthe-swilling ass-fuckers in Paris

with a touch of Thomas Hardy’s brutality
and then the entire 20th century

–hipsters versus the suits–
pencils and then the keypads

blinking out secret sadnesses
and begging for love.


Wednesday, August 29, 2012

poem, with fewer typos than the previous version
my single night in vegas
i find the woodsman, a local
bar open all night

i ask about a cheap room
they recommend a nearby place
resembling a space needle
with low off-night rates

but fearful of heights i demur
park across the street
get a $15 room attached 
to a mini-casino, the Aztec Inn

experiencing hard times 
its restaurant with practically
free steak-and-eggs
closed for good

before i head to the room
i'm shooting game after game
of pool alone stroking well
at the woodsman

in my imagination
looking the part, looking
like a money player
which i'm anything but

i overhear conversations
about boob jobs, blowjobs,
typical barroom sadnesses

in a knowing voice unique to
bar maids, bartenders, 
dancers, hustlers

as i leave, three short-skirts
walk in with their pool cues
but i'm just not in the mood

i retire to my crappy room
with no TV, the joint 
must date from 1950
the window open onto the 

sidewalk, the night air asphalt hot
i wake at 3 a.m. finished with
sleep, find a taqueria
and have chilaquiles before

heading back into the
desert on my way 
to a quick divorce

Copyright 2010 by Patrick O'Hayer

Friday, June 29, 2012

wise heads

wise heads suggest
balance, maturity,

forgiveness where
i find betrayal.

maybe violence
will make me whole.

silly since cracked
limbs barely

carry me along,
vision failing

hearing less, less,
flab where muscle was

heartbroken yet, 
ignoring wise heads

old friends, barely
wondering, walk away

Copyright 2012 by Patrick O'Hayer

Friday, June 15, 2012

transit of venus

old old friend
with plush equipage

scales heights to
view the rarest

cosmic event
a black dot

snailing across
the white-hot disc

used in olden time
to triangulate

the parallax of
the human heart

Copyright 2012 by Patrick O'Hayer