five poems
by Wayne F. Burke
Punctuation
Add a comma, throw in a dash, use an ellipsis whenever you do not know where to go...Or what to do next...Like a pause in which to consider/reconsider dot dot dot the action stops, silence descends; or else use the baffling disturbingly disconcerting double Dreiserian dash, like two jabs followed by exclamation point of startling visage, springing up like a cheetah in the bush----! Grab a handful of Faulknerian colons and plaster those babies to clauses, segmenting whole fields of prose: A semi-colon makes a hole in the fence of the full-stops; the pause a gap that undermines solidity of the construction--a lower hinge swivel of sorts, allowing entry.
Complete Control
my sister-in-law asked me
if I wanted coffee and
I said "yes" and that
I would make some, but
she said "no, I will make
it," and pulled the pot
from my hand and
I stood aside and watched
as she put too many grounds
in, so that, when done, the
stuff tasted like mud.
I tore a page out of my
notebook and gave it
to my brother to use
as wick to light his burner--
my sister-in-law hollered
"no! Don't do it! No!" but
my brother did it, anyway, as
my sister-in-law looked on
in horror--
she had just gotten out of
prison
Thursday
after doing time for trying to
control the world.
Channel 69
Old black & white movie on TV
3:04 am, York Beach, ME, The
Sea Side Motel. Elegantly dressed
people drinking champagne from
long-stemmed glasses and smoking
cigarettes; the sheer material of the
womans dresses outlines the
mid-lines of buttocks and thatches
between legs--the men wear hats
when outside, ties and jackets within;
the women wear crepuscular corsages
liker vulvas with clitoral centers; the
men fondle their genitalia; the women
press pocketbooks to their cunts: a
not so high drama of muslin curtains
and city lights, in the dawn of another
sea side day.
A background of dark funereal green hillside ridge line--tide of infinity behind (trying to write like Kerouac here, spin long poetic sentences of aureality)--moon 500 yards up, white and fragile-looking in blue infinitude sea. Hosanna sun of white gold glow in the highest et spiritu sanctum d'or of Midas, yass, common gold of commonhood, uncommon show writ large in sunset book of gorgeousness.
In the Drugged Air
of living-room sleepiness
I fold
and pass out; coming-
to mopey, bereft, dull
as ache--
how long I have slept!
3-hours, upright
in REM sleep while
the world outside
kept in step, marching
like the SS--
like a scary football team--
the two-step goose-step
in and out
my dreams.
Photo of Wayne F. Burke
BIO: Wayne F. Burke's poetry and prose has been widely published online and in print. His most recently published poetry collection is titled WHATEVER HAPPENED TO BABY WAYNE? Published by Hog Press. 2025. He lives in Vermont (USA).