Poetry: Selections From Jonathan Hayes

The Game
 
I’ve studied w/
the best according
to academia,
and published w/
the worst in the smalls.
 
Between the ebb and flow
I grab a starfish, and
leave it minus an arm,
for the critics.

An Ugly Chap
 
In an interview 
w/ Barbara Walters
 
He said it was
the image he killed 
 
A record cover
a sellout living on the Upper West Side.
 
Yoko’s eyes seared 
into the NYPD patrol car at the monster
 
An ultimate installation of art
handcuffed to the institution.

 
The Dog

Sits at attention
on the city sidewalk

Next to its master
who is panhandling w/ a frying pan

I walk by and look down between 
the dog’s legs a huge furry penis hangs

The tip of it all flesh —
a bright moist pink gleams in the sun

It slowly expands w/ the dog’s gaze 
into the crowd on the sidewalk.

New Girlfriend

We were
a month into
our relationship,

and I remembered
the salesman on Van Ness Avenue
telling me that the metal futons
were a hundred dollars cheaper but didn’t
last as long as the wooden ones.

This morning after she left, 
I looked for the disposable wrench and tools
to tighten the nuts and screws

of the metal futon.

Open Window

When I’m home
the pigeons

try to fly
into my

bedroom

bringing their omen of death,

and when I come home
after work

I find their feathers on the windowsill.

The "END" is a coloring book
slowly being filled in

by wings
flapping

out of control.

Jonathan Hayes lives in Oakland, California with his wife and their cat.