Jee Leong Koh
Art by Anaïs Beaulieu
From Connor and Seal, a forthcoming book, the following seven poems are spoken by Seal, who moved from Kingston, Jamaica, to New York City for a better life.
“the sun was high the morning he bottomed”
the sun was high the morning he bottomed
by a pool tastefully appointed with books
the all american with esquire good looks
bicycling out of the trousers and the prom
high too when he was tagged by two oreos
their cocks stuffing his sugar mouth and ass
highest when fucking the big boob stewardess
he brought ken so close he blows he blows
overdosed on prescription medicine
provided some say by a kindly client
by sean on screen by matt in life he went
he went and now the juicy worms have him
“out of the datsun rocketing at 90”
out of the datsun rocketing at 90
an ex vice mayor shoots his smallish wad
and so extends a southern lightning rod
for sneering lefties and godly righties
the obvious phallus of a congressman
stretching north his gray boxer briefs
he tweets to her for his obscure relief
the aphrodisiac of attention
there will be less and less for everyone
as billionaires decide what we will see
power and sex and ads for liberty
will divvy up the vision of the sun
“today they coat the sun in candy crust”
today they coat the sun in candy crust
tomorrow what will they make safe and sweet
and sell it to the masses for a treat
yesterday they were pushing new stardust
beehives are trucked to wanton cornfield blue
assyrian refugees in flatbed ferries
when brooklyn bees are fed maraschino cherries
blood honey robitussin red for you
all is to be sold marrow pit and sap
it started long ago the gm tree
the apple once a bit of machinery
for our redemption is now an app
“i have been barking at the sun the bone”
i have been barking at the sun the bone
that will not drop into my raving maw
until commissioned first to shock and awe
the bomb is tossed by a cruising drone
i have been watching porn and buying books
knowing a history of all my searches
so purely indicative of my urges
is open to the state and to its crooks
what shall i choose from the catalogue
the causes are so many and so urgent
defend the sloe impeach the president
the dialectic has mushroomed to dialogue
“the system of the micro sun the net”
the system of the micro sun the net
is streaming nonstop videos of the blast
no one not one escapes from the broadcast
of rookie mayhem and the terror threat
someone sincere a would be hacktivist
has broken into the sys and gained access
to the rootkit ensconced in our recess
the terrorist works with other idealists
they want to combat code with better code
they say they will get whatever they phish for
they promise very soon all that we wish for
we will get too when we press download
“without a doubt the sun from house to house”
without a doubt the sun from house to house
flushes out the subversive elements
brother betrays brother to the agents
the son drags forth the mother by her blouse
words fall in line behind the party line
or else escape with poppers underground
the suspects are required to walk around
with foreheads branded with a dollar sign
and when my usefulness is finally done
finally will come a knuckle on my door
at least i hope to be accounted for
by the incomparable agents of the sun
“flying into the cut and pasted sun”
flying into the cut and pasted sun
a black hawk chopper twirls its razor blades
charlie brown is pouring lucy’s lemonade
over the muffled face of a boy tied down
no bots no movement in this corridor
constructed by an old drawing program
outside the photograph four videocams
monitor the dead space above the floor
i cannot tear my eyes away for dread
a grin has opened in the continuum
a tree beckons with multiplying arms
this beady blackbird with a bluish head
