Two Poems By Bill Kimzey

by Mark Bibbins, Editor

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At five I took up break dancing.
Enameled zebras and mermaids,
sinewed to my vertebrae, rode
the crest and trough of thudding
sinusoidal waves. I preferred
hard wood over sidewalks for
dizzy speed, but at Cleo’s Needle
my calliope got more green.
I spray painted my cardboard
but its integrity wearied me.
Now when I crave the loopy organ
grind and tessellated mirrors,
I reveal the Tattooed Man.

To-Do

Inside the fig leaf
is David and Venus de Milo.
Inside David
is fear, pride and ambition.
Inside Venus
is a Blackberry brimming to-do lists and appointments.
Inside naïve pride and ambition
is a pecan. Hull shucked,
it buries itself in the ground
sprouts
cracks its shell
roots down
unwinds up and green
and consumes his meat.
Inside to-do lists and appointments,
Veuve Clicquot and Chambord,
proportioned to a practiced heart,
twirl
drip bitters
and pour over bristling ice.
David and Venus
loosen leaves wedged
upon them
and party.

Bill Kimzey’s work has appeared in Ducts, Cha: An Asian Literary Journal, and VerbSap. He is desperately trying to find an agent, or even a publisher, for his memoir, Dear Denise.

For more poetry, visit The Poetry Section’s vast archive. You may contact the editor at poems@theawl.com.