Poetry

	Glenn McCrary
	PROFILE About me Friends (2) Poetry (177)

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Glenn McCrary, 21 july 2012

Lawless

Whoah! Eureka!
The thieves are-a-comin’!
Whoah! Eureka!
The thieves are-a-comin’!
An elderly Caucasian woman screams
In the darkest corner
Of the cannibalistic church
An elderly Caucasian woman screams
The thieves are-a-comin’!

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Glenn McCrary, 21 july 2012

Snake Language

The day is majestic,
So the passions of strangers.

The clouds are majestic,
So the diligence of strangers.

Majestic, also, is the moon.
Majestic, also, are the time tables of strangers.

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Glenn McCrary, 21 july 2012

Brave

I do not love you,
For your eyes are spiteful, too.
I do not love you,
Your eyes are revolving lasers of ugliness and destitution.
Though why the desire to smite me,
O, brave ones,
Why the desire to smite me?

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Glenn McCrary, 21 july 2012

Shall We Beget Sweet Summer Love?

Shall I beget a memoir of your fairness?
Shall I compose words about you?
Shall I beget a poem that will live through
Centuries and sculpt your history in the poem?

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Glenn McCrary, 21 july 2012

Hello, Fearful One

A petite Midwestern raised child
Arrives at a Southern institution
And fears the labors of speaking
With the Southern children.

At first they appear favorable,
Then they taunt her
And call her “cracker.”

The Southern children
Disdained her, too,
Eventually.

She is a petite white girl
With an oval white face
And solid pink blouse.

Regarding this
Petite, fearful child
She might craft a story
Devising tomorrow.

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Glenn McCrary, 20 july 2012

Red Sense

How thick and blunt is the eclipse tonight!
How thick and blunt and deathly black
Are the slanted bones of the eclipse!

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Glenn McCrary, 20 july 2012

Advance

We sprint,
We sprint,
We shan’t tarry within the shadows!
Give us the light.

We were not fabricated
To be degraded,
To be heavily degraded,
And narrow volume of respiration
That these lavender things have invented.
We sprint,
Oh, Lord,
We sprint!
We must rend these shadows,
We must find the light.

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Glenn McCrary, 20 july 2012

Amy's Eyes

Oh, Spanish maroon!
Oh, lucky ladies of the valley!

In a Memphis tavern
Three short-necked entertainers astound.
A dancing vixen who’s eyes are daring
Ascends a skirt of silken bearing.
Oh, singing maroon!
Oh, lucky ladies of the valley!

Were Amy’s eyes
Of the first castle
Just a tad too daring?
Was Pocahontas flamboyant?
In a corset of ivy green?
Oh lucky clover

Oh, lucky maroon!
Oh, Spanish ladies of the valley!

In a revolving tavern
Three short-necked entertainers astound.

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Glenn McCrary, 20 july 2012

Shapes

The florid footprints of hussies
seeped upon the black rug.
The florid heart of a saint crippled at the
fallow door.
The laughter of a sober count guised the howl
Of a callous whore.
count,
Composed a strangely shaped finger,
count your curses, ---
And Death was the raincoat I wore.