Saturday, September 18, 2010

Walking Down Frat Row
(By Walter Beck)

So all these bros and hipsters were staring
At this weird, long-haired, barefoot thing
Ambling down their street;
With a Dunhill cigarette hanging from his lip
And strange incantations muttered
Of Two-Headed Dogs
And Lazarus Digging himself back in the Cave
That came out of the pocket of his loud gonzo shirt.
A fleshed out legacy of the Doctor’s words;
“Some may never live, but the crazy never die.”

A Fire Poet’s Lament
(By Walter Beck)

Reduced to hashing out
Press releases and promos;
The red flame don’t need no poets
To keep her fire burning.

The Dust of Many Moons
(By Walter Beck)

She tells me the dust of the moons knows my name and their hands squeeze my chest as dirt hardens and cakes around my pale leather soles.

She tells me the dust of the moons knows my name and I speak to them as the ash blows from the reed and clay.

She tells me the dust of the moons knows my name and they speak to me as I take a hit and fall in the mud, hearing the words in my head, “à tout le monde, à tous mes amis, je vous aime, je dois partir”.*

*Taken from the chorus of the Megadeth song "A Tout Le Monde"

Neon Sign Blues
(By Walter Beck)

He drinks his Pink Gin
With an Olive garnish;
As I sip an Iron City
And look down
At my dirty natural leather.

Walter Beck is from Avon, IN and is currently enrolled as a graduate student at Indiana State University in Terre Haute. He has become a mainstay in the Terre Haute poetry scene for his intense performances. His work has appeared in the ISU Tonic, the Vincennes University Tecumseh Review, subTerreanean, Camp Chase Gazette, Paradigm Journal and most recently, Burner Magazine.

Helpless I do not know if good intentions prevail among the elected, among the appointed, leaving me apprehensive that the fate ...