"I Could Not Drink It," by Emily Dickinson

Triviality and Guilt

I celebrate your new coiffure
and worry about the hungry and the poor
at the same time. What
good does either trivial focus or guilt
do to affect big problems? I state
the question in a homely way.

I congratulate your hips
and fret over how White Americans
will never "get it"
(until they get it).
What good? Fuckin' white people.

I remark on a grey cat's
behavior and think of
our water on fire
our air carcinogenic
our land
either flooded
or
baked
our politicians
embalmed
with corporate money,
ah, what good?

I rest my teeth
on the image of a chrome fender
and I wonder
how many bombs "we"
have dropped, on what,
on whom, and why
(why not!)
since, say,
1941. What. Good?




hans ostrom 2013

Poli-Tics

Politics
Slit
Tic
Clot
Slop
It
Slip
Post
Plot
Lot
Cop
Lop
Sop
Cot
Lit
Lip
Lisp
List
Politics




hans ostrom 2013

Steady As She Goes

Yes, it was in
that decade when
the first animated
cartoon-character
was elected to
Congress. Financiers
bought the Air Force--
all part of privatization.

Regarding privacy,
citizens played online
surveillance-games
and mugged for
the cameras they
knew about. Personal

letters were criminalized
for being inefficient
and vaguely subversive.
Through it all,

careers flourished.
The number of opinions
held remained steady.



hans ostrom 2013

"The Soul's Distinct Connection," by Emily Dickinson

"German bar," by Charles Bukowski

Sonnet for an Actress

(reposting one from way back)





You should have seen her yesterday.
She was more beautiful than our
Idea of beauty; and the way
She carried beauty in her hour

Unveiled achievement by a body
Unmatched by art. You should have seen
Her. Yes, our gaze was always ready.
What, though, did her beauty mean?

Did she embody what we thought?
Or did she teach us to desire?
And were we seeing what we sought,
Or held in spell by beauty’s choir?

Confused, nostalgic—what to say?
If you’d just seen her yesterday....



hans ostrom 2007/2013

Failed Insults

Oh, you Kurdish book!

Don't give me that look, you fascinating nude portrait!

How can you live with yourself, hideous mildly tart apple pie?

Gesture of kindness, get out of town, hit the bricks.

Unpretentious professor, feeder of the hungry, calm presence, loyal friend:
you make me sick.

Working-class White male who isn't racist, I hope you're happy.


hans ostrom 2013

A Pre-Dating Conversation

She: Are you single?
He: Well, as you can see, I'm more like a double. But I always say I'm a party of one!
She: Are you interested in a commitment?
He: Not if it involves a state-operated institution. Hey, I've paid my debt to society.
She: What are your turn-ons?
He: Uh, women without clothes on and, uh, also women. Without clothes on.
She: Does anything about women threaten you?
He: If they have a gun, a knife, or a stupid ex-husband. Otherwise, no.
She: Where would you go on a first date?
He: Anywhere--any place where combat wasn't occurring.
She: What do you think about vegans?
He: I think they're so cute that I'd like to eat them. Just kidding.
She: Do you have a lot of baggage?
He: No. I have this real cool duffel bag and a really old Samsonite.
She: Do you like to communicate?
He: Yes, especially when I need something.
She: I'm not interested in playing games.
He: Me, neither. Especially board-games. And video-games. Soccer, too. I mean,
I could be talked into a game of ping-pong, but that's about it.
She: Are you romantic?
He: Fuck, yeah, I'm romantic. Roses, dinner, a new dress, jewelry. My thing
is: whatever it takes!
She: I don't think this is going to work out.
He: Yeah, I guess not. It's not you. It's me. How about a drink?

"The Sorrow of Love," by W.B. Yeats

"Towards Evening," by Hans Ostrom

Happeningness

The happeningness
of reality never pauses,
"is" being a fiction,
a slice of approximation
imagined to be there
between "was" and "will be."
No wonder wonder
sometimes tires me.


hans ostrom 2013

"Penumbra," by Dante Gabriel Rosetti