The Poetry Project


Anne Waldman

*xxxxxSensemaya, the snake
xxxSensemaya, with its eyes
x(Nicolas Guillen)

Be such a strong fact
You would sleep
Of those I kill

Milk running over
Name a variant of “scheme”

To act not hurt

Render it barren

Nor spill dripping rain
Athene asks Turn it up

xxxxxThe hungry Syrians

& whose up for rule?
A labrys, the double head

An ax for thought


Suffer eclipse
can’t see can’t see the syndicates

For want of a brain
xxxxxyet I have
without wine
this crazy election

xxHooked the little box world

Men are stumping in their speeches

I can’t be media for want of a brain

Stains set you free after vetting
The secret pacts and deals
Go crazy with conspiracy

I always vote beside the hearth
Keep my house alive
Be not a murderer of sleep

Bloc at the feet

For want of a brainstem
The spears go free

All my arrows were the candidates

Ur-this, the ur-that, ur-person
xxxxone who told a story, silly, too long


The self goes down….

In augury with a nuked family

For want of a society the bees run free

For want of a tibula, the world strums

Sisters elect of our wonder; a barker:
xxxxpearls and blue beads
Cobalt stuff
xxxxAn outfit

For want of obstruction
run free

& the other one had a cuff link perhaps

will others don?

will swear?

Keep an upright way

Pancake makeup & pundits
And sway to a better idea?

Make no mistake
xxxWhen greater disaster comes
Robber is all you are

Helm of my state will not go gentle

Out of the riches, yet
mid-grips for the temps on strike in Michigan

This is not a red state
This is the city of Pallas

Alive in the estates of the father

Enough, cry hold
& they bitter come from a mocking tree
in ritual misadventure
upon all who stroll across oaths

Hunted beast slips from our nets


Won’t sleep me with me no more no more
for want of a bed

Charioteers go on strike
xxxfor want of a whip

Mount the statue of Athene
and her plebes

xxxxxEyes horrible with blood
who cannot see it’s plain to see

stain & power, a powerwall’s streets

xxReceive your call

In secrecy of night
spring clear for want of a holy ear

Hears what it calls to all hers

You can not get me dream,
For want of an eye

Whimper you must
For want of an ark
You cannot get me an ark

For want of the sea
For want of my solace

A kind of school

Go Hermes
Help me pour these lustral
Or get up, feet
For want of a mother-snake

A hound whose thought of hunting has no shape

Ok, slack em
Let go, bloodshot breath
Vital’s heat
The dumb TV waken. speak severally
new more promises

In the town hall
You want plurality
Try a whole matricidal chorus
Trumped up for this

Let stabbing voice of the Etruscan

Let her breathe
A single ballot can restore a tree house

O god of the younger generation
Under the pods
xxA future cruelty

Fuck land & bring your ton of hatred upon it
Tyranny not bring your bulk of hatred on anything

Civility? I promise you a void

I promise you a place
In the sacrosanct booth

Jagged loners eat the seeds

Or I’ll accept all devotions by you, citizens

Issue 12