Joel Dailey

Cling to the Notion

She’s a good day to dilate she’s
A day for fisticuffs
Out There pandemic wingnuts spawn conspiracy lies out
What’s left of the wazoo
In fact the new currency is toilet tissue
(I think I believe
I possibly may
have an ear infuckshun)
Which leads to my plan for World Domination which
May be thwarted
Or calmly brushed aside
By a baby carriage descending a staircase by
A fat cell burning contest
Or by vociferous consumption of genuine embossed Infodemic geegaws
(ultra-violent rays
are heartfelt
against the green felt)
But wait
Far beyond the 6 foot social distancing Arc de Triomphe this canned gravy sucks
In tandem I have wasted my mashed potatoes in
A field strewn with horse

Civilization & Its Content

after Robert Frost

I wobble variants on a team
I encouraged the fly to land on Pence’s noggin
I wallop hourly
I begin each sentence with the first person pronoun AR-15
I prefer insect humor
I relish GOO GONE
I pissed in the stream of consciousness
I left right
I spread sheep shit o’er the stunned & stunning farmhands
I is rough transition
I sirloin tremor
I gush green teacup over yon pooch
I oxygen detox
I, tip of the iceberg, emergent


Woke up just now in a shack on Typewriter Key, Florida
The clairvoyants did not see the crosstown bus
You are on the verge of something huge
My tricks play eyes on me, Earl
The linguine hitteth the fan
Grounds for saturation
Flickering agendas
Bathtubs I abhor
Fast forever
Maybe yes
Or not

Joel Dailey lives in New Orleans. His most recent books are NEW DETAILS EMERGE (New Books) and ELEMENTS OF STYLE (Scram Press). He edits and publishes SWOOPCARDS. a series of letterpress postcards and broadsides.