This week we have an intense energy driven piece by poet and playwright Mark Antony Rossi, containing the raw material of an author such as Bukowski, while employing the linguistics of a more technically orientated poet such as John Forbes or Stanley Kunitz.
If your sister only knew the animals
she loves are not too bright and often head first
for my speeding sedan where their tender bodies
are crushed into a thick red paste
erupting through a furry matted mess of instant death.
My garden hose reluctantly baptizes every tire
with a religious fervor not seen since that last time
I ran over rabbits, raccoons and other righteous rodents.
I don’t see the romance of Mother Nature.
I only feel rain ruining my manliner.
I only get annoyed by gnats chewing
my olive complexion and I shovel the spattered remains
of forest critters like so many slices of street pizza.
On first read, the poem is almost surrealist in its banality, but at second glance we can see an eerie undertone which forces us to question what we consider masculinity against the context of women, nature and the world itself.
Tune in next week for another creative piece!