Poetry

Chrism
RLM Bianchi
The fat from the veal roast I so love to eat.
Open to listening to colors of sage.
The herb garden is available to you if you feel that a walk will do you good.
The openness of the wound leads me to believe that the cut was made with relish. 

Why do I delight in guns and knives and axes? Because these things bring joy to the heart
and open up the real truth that we are a violent people.  As a small child I loved books
about things I could not see. When I finally saw those things the books were better.

Stories told to me in my youth included horror.  I asked the question, What century is
this?  The sound of a slap on the bottom makes me laugh.  Sound means much to people.
The question is, however, What to do with the feeling of the slap?

Writing in another language has the same use as sleeping with someone else's wife.
It is a sin, it is uncomfortable, and yet it is alluring.  But what is lost makes what is
gained less than filling.
Ben and Jerry are Dead
RLM Bianchi
The report states that I am not necessary for the growth or development
of the enterprise. In Vegas I was amazed at the dust and dirt; it covers
all the sequins. The success of the auction space can be attributed, in part, to the
fact that the cargo was washed, cleaned and pressed. The buttons make the shirt
and help it stay closed over girth. 

Sun and light peek through the crack of the door
I sit and wait for a burst of cold air that does not come.

Ben and Jerry are dead. No more nuts or $12.00 ice cream.
Ezra Pound shared with us that life was a conspiracy with nothing good to be
gained. Usury was his preoccupation and the laws of utility did not make a
difference as he used the bar of soap from Krakow.

The Chinese characters are open to interpretation. They grace the apartment and
make it look like Auntie Mame lives within.  But it is just not Asian without the
little cardboard boxes and fortune cookies.

RLM Bianchi is a native of Chicago and was educated at the University of Iowa. For most of the 1990s, he lived and worked in Bolivia and Brazil. Returning to the USA in 1998, he became involved with the Dallas, Texas poetry scene with many groups, including the Writers Garret. Ray currently resides in Princeton, New Jersey. His work has appeared in the Red River Review, Poetry Magazine.com, The Economist, Illya's Honey, and many others.

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