The Poetry of T.G. Vanini

The Poetry of T. G. Vanini

Here's the exuberant child
by T. G. Vanini

Here's the exuberant child escaped from your head,
dancing and punching the air,
unleashing the monkeys, creating a whirlwind,
and always wanting more.
An hour of silence was the price to be paid
and now it's time for the show.

Rising steam tickles your chin.
Your feet learn new ways to move.
You're exploring a painted garden at dawn
in the wake of a tumbling leaf
that reels you in from nothing to something
far more interesting than love.

The scarface moon, the limp lily,
and the hard bed don't matter.
It's pointless to rake over the relics
of a bygone age of battles.
You're revelling in your grin, your satisfied belly,
and your home among the shadows.

Copyright 1999 Laurie Kirby, all rights reserved.

The mermaid
by T. G. Vanini

     Even when she shrinks towards you
     Why you ask did she fuse her legs?
     Even as she denies it with a swish
     Why even her swish denies you
     Why there goes the flatbed truck
     Racing for the roadkill
     Even the squad of tomcats armed with waterguns
     On their hind legs backs in a circle
     Her poison in their eyes
     Break the circle jump down from the flatbed
     Load her fishtail onto the flatbed
     They load
     Her fishtail
     Scales and all
     Onto the flatbed
     Why do they drive her better half away?
     Why do they drive her better half away from her?
     She has no antlers for trophy
     Even now they're roasting her in a rusty shed
     Now her scales are growing sticky on a heap
     Now her flatbed boys are still bellies in the air
     Why even now her cousins are scooped into their machines

Copyright 1999 Laurie Kirby, all rights reserved.

The Music of T. G. Vanini

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