Friday, May 12, 2017

Paul Koniecki Gets His Tetanus Shot From The Devil's Sister And Navigates Orchids And Drug Cartels


the first words my first wife
ever said to me in person were
hi this is victor he is my boyfriend

slash pimp and he will be in the
adjoining room if there are any problems
she actually said boyfriend slash pimp

and i was impressed by her use of the
word adjoining and her bottom and how
the green of her eyes didn't seem to have

three years later leaning against the
bathroom sink in my apartment with a
grapefruit knife sticking out of my thigh

like an old telephone pole on a flat and
hairy stretch of road i laughed and i
sweated and i looked for some peroxide

or rubbing alcohol and i hoped i wouldn't
pass out on the way to the hospital and
that my new couch wouldn't be permanently

stained but most of all i thanked god i
had dressed to the right and that my thigh
had taken one for the team and i don't

know if it was the blood loss but i really
wondered waiting in the care-now clinic
if i would ever be able to trust again

then she walked in my nurse my angel
a vision in chapstick looking like a
girl-next-door stripper gram or the devil's

sister with a tetanus shot in one hand
and my leg in the other she possessed
the all time best sad bad broken love at

first sight i can't resist you beaten by life
but back for another round look in her eye
really ever -- the first words my second

wife (the nurse) ever said to me in person
were - wow would you look at that
and i told her my story and she told

me her's and love springs eternal in
the hearts of us still even when it
walks with a limp

Bazooka goes to the Ft Worth Botanical Gardens in the dark

My makers had
access to 3D printers,
fiberglass reinforced nylon,

munitions, instructions, and profitable conflicts. Personally
I abhor 'field of battle'

brown and the
mixing of gold
and red as it relates

to spoils of war.
When they went
out again to order

more safety deposit
box keys and crystal
chandeliers I made my escape.

Here is the poem
I wrote as I jumped
the garden fence,

the first night I fell in love.

The moon slept
In the pond
Beneath the pagoda

Russet and ochre
And manila flags
fluttered in the breeze

They seemed varying
Shades of gray
To dogs and men

I held trigger
To petal with
My new love

Bulbophyllum Nocturnum
The only orchid able
To flower before the dawn

love in a time of commerce

and the lap-dancers
call it flex messaging

that futile attempt
by men to communicate

through blue jeans
and disregard

beautiful girls wipe silver poles

with tattered bills
and tempered haunches

she chooses me and comes

so close
i cannot stand

from apex
to impost

i whisper
i am not a poet

she swears
she is from somewhere else

Connect the wild dots

-for Mark J Kilroy

Sara came from Texas.
I crossed over for Spring Break.

The circus has a juggler.
The border has a war.

The street has a taco vender
two lamp posts and a trick.

The air is hot and sweet.
Breathing is a pilgrimage.

I need a bag.
Breathing is inalienable.

I need a bag.
The hoarders have a brick.

Obliterated on cerveza fria
we cross the street to get a bag.

The sunlight slits the darkness
like a razor on the bias.

In the shadows brick stacking
hoarders pause to ask my name.

Adrenaline is a blessing.
Breathing is circus work.

Breathing is an artifice, a subterfuge,
an almost involuntary trick.

The circus has a juggler.
The boarder has a war.

El Padrino has a farm outside of town.
Matamoras has a witch.

Dirt cannot be shoveled
by the sleeping and the dead.

I need a bag. I need a bag.
I need a bag.

Sara came from Texas.
La Madrina is six foot one.

The names have not been changed
because the innocent are dead.

I looked for God twelve times.
Twelve times in a hole I looked.

I love you the perfectness of death.
Her lips are soft on soft.

Beyond torture. Beyond pain. Beyond
clean blood and the integrity of maggots.

Twelve times in a hole.
Spooning in dirt

and worms and the ends of lost
mistaken things and machetes in the neck.

Little tarot boy of Mexico City thank
you for not burying me alone.

The border's war is drugs. I need a bag
I need a bag I need a bag of air.

When Paul Koniecki isn’t shoveling peanut butter and jelly sandwiches down his throat, he hosts Pandora's Box Poetry Showcase at Deep Vellum Books in Dallas, Texas. His chapbook, Reject Convention, was published by Kleft Jaw Press. Richard Bailey's film, "One Of The Rough" contains several of Paul's poems and was shown at The Berlin Experimental Film Festival in December of 2016.  He once featured at the Fermoy International Poetry Festival in Fermoy, Ireland where he saw a real live unicorn walk into a bar. Paul’s poetry has been published in multiple online and print publications.

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