by Misti Rainwater-Lites
after Ezra Pound
Go now my words
dandelion seeds
wishes
to those who
are stuck
in boxes
made of poor decisions
lack of guts
and imagination.
Not all of us are convicted.
Go then as great gust of wind
of fresh March air
blowing demons of doubt
from stagnant waters.
Go now as ghosts
haunting the lonely wedded
the imprisoned despised
the irritable mismatched
the miserable oppressed
with hope huger
and more magical
than Cinderella’s pumpkin.
Go spook the loathing
from city scarred minds.
Go rattle and loose the chains
keeping the grim isolated
in paranoid attics.
Gather and go as tonic
to those who burn and writhe
with robust lust,
fantasies dancing
exhausted skeletons
across thickest tapestry
no fingers
can unravel.
Go armed and at the ready
against the facile
servants of hypocrisy,
forever occupied
with the application
of their convenient labels.
Seek the walking dead
and shoot out their eyes.
Go giddy go glad.
Promote ebullience
on every ennui
lousy corner.
Go as confetti
as dubloons
as beads
at Mardi Gras.
Go down easier
than a Hurricane
or a Bloody Mary.
Go on hot winged feet
to the cubicle enslaved
the suburbia ensconced
the consumers of strip malls
that repeat themselves
across the fading quilt of America
because there is nothing
left to settle or seek.
Go speak anarchy and wilderness
in color deaf ears.
Go sneaky and soft
as subversive suggestion
hinting at freedom
the divine sublime
which is always
only a doorstep away.
Go as battle cry
to loser adolescents
bullied by football players
and prom queens.
Go to the ones who
are only beginning to
comprehend the size and the scope
of the horror show.
Go and tell them the homecoming mums
will fade the crepe façade will fall
the pep rally balloons will burn
but the wild song inside
the vibration
the echo
is forever
for those
who are brave
enough to obey
their throats.
Go and cheer
that ugliness is beautiful
and those with
all the answers
should be pulverized
with them.
Go kiss go grope
bored housewife
on the frozen foods aisle.
Tell her to be a nubile bride
to chaos, always.
Go and get the grim job done.
Go and spit blood into glassy eyes.
Misti Rainwater-Lites is the author of several poetry collections. Her newest novel is Bullshit Rodeo (Blunt Trauma Press). Misti resides in the complacent wilds of rural Texas.
A-Minor 
[…] Dispatch Misti Rainwater-Lites […]
This is a tour de force. Poetry at its best.
WOW!!! LOVE!!! “Go spook the loathing
from city scarred minds.
Go rattle and loose the chains
keeping the grim isolated
in paranoid attics.” This is pure brilliance! Exceptional!
Joani and Meg, thanks so much for reading and commenting!
a brilliant poem with enormous pulse,the pulse of being fed up with conventionality,break out of whichever esthetic or urban metasystem,go now,a magic formula to drive,haunt,threaten,
pick up the coles,to throw,or break glasses,to walk in,to see others walk in,anything that breaks with code,an anti codex,a poem with sublime a choice of sophisticated words and higher music as antimusic,the cellar as point of onset.
Thanks so much!
[…] My first husband taught me about the dead homies thing…pouring malt liquor on the ground “for all the dead homies.” I will buy a beer tonight, drink most of it and pour the last bitter swallow on the grass for Mister Pound to thank him for giving me this poem. […]
Great stuff here. I really like the lightness of this in the middle:
Go giddy go glad.
Promote ebullience
on every ennui
lousy corner.
Go as confetti
as dubloons
as beads
at Mardi Gras.
Go down easier
than a Hurricane
or a Bloody Mary.
Made me smile. And think. Two things we should do every day.
“…nothing left to settle or seek …”
Erudite, with serious bite.
This is one kick ass poem, and Ezra would concur.
I wish to read it again; and will.
Wow ~ Holy Cow Misti ~ this is astounding! Absolutely kick ass in every way ~ totally blown away. I know these comments aren’t very “literary” but that’s my immediate and honest response….love it!
[…] poem in A-Minor Magazine the 2nd Anniversary […]
thank you all for reading and appreciating
[…] Poetry Dispatch – Misti Rainwater-Lites Cape, May – Alicia Hoffman You As Snake – Rose […]
“…be a nubile bride to chaos…” brilliant!
un-fucking believable. pure genius. epic.
Great! Builds to a profound end.