Mark Cunningham
3 poems
**
[specimen]
Over the course of a lifetime, people inhale at least eight spiders in their sleep. Every day after school, she would eat creamed peas and listen to Led Zeppelin I. More plastic in that one hit than Visa has dropped on all Hiroshima. Hold it: now I can't remember the last time somebody touched me. What do you mean, maybe that was your Creature from the Black Lagoon noise?
**
[specimen]
So I figured why not put body heat to work for me? I eye-droppered some water into the stream and said, "I've invented perpetual motion." I couldn't believe it: she was paying attention and she wasn’t even a sociologist. I didn't punch him. I'm mute and my hand has Tourette's syndrome. My powers frighten even me: I didn't expect to see him there, so I didn't see him, and it turns out he wasn't even there.
**
[specimen]
He swallowed wrong, bringing to an abrupt end our argument about the Coriolis effect. I often spell "boredom" boredome. She remembered reading that successful people don't waste a second, so rather than become despondent about her situation, she thought this would be a good time to see if she could really swallow even while hanging upside down. "Actually, they're not ferocious unless they're provoked," he said, just before trying to prod it into a cart using a metal-tipped pole. Easy for you to say in retrospect that I should have known it was a real ray gun.
**
return to sawbuck 2.4
**
Mark Cunningham has poems in recent or forthcoming issues of Dusie, Practice, and Cannot Exist. Otoliths has published a book titled 80 Beetles. It can be ordered directly from Otoliths. Tarpaulin Sky Press will be bringing out a book titled Body Language, which will a sort of diptych including two collections, one titled Body (on parts of the body) and one titled Primer (on numbers and letters).
**
[specimen]
Over the course of a lifetime, people inhale at least eight spiders in their sleep. Every day after school, she would eat creamed peas and listen to Led Zeppelin I. More plastic in that one hit than Visa has dropped on all Hiroshima. Hold it: now I can't remember the last time somebody touched me. What do you mean, maybe that was your Creature from the Black Lagoon noise?
**
[specimen]
So I figured why not put body heat to work for me? I eye-droppered some water into the stream and said, "I've invented perpetual motion." I couldn't believe it: she was paying attention and she wasn’t even a sociologist. I didn't punch him. I'm mute and my hand has Tourette's syndrome. My powers frighten even me: I didn't expect to see him there, so I didn't see him, and it turns out he wasn't even there.
**
[specimen]
He swallowed wrong, bringing to an abrupt end our argument about the Coriolis effect. I often spell "boredom" boredome. She remembered reading that successful people don't waste a second, so rather than become despondent about her situation, she thought this would be a good time to see if she could really swallow even while hanging upside down. "Actually, they're not ferocious unless they're provoked," he said, just before trying to prod it into a cart using a metal-tipped pole. Easy for you to say in retrospect that I should have known it was a real ray gun.
**
return to sawbuck 2.4
**
Mark Cunningham has poems in recent or forthcoming issues of Dusie, Practice, and Cannot Exist. Otoliths has published a book titled 80 Beetles. It can be ordered directly from Otoliths. Tarpaulin Sky Press will be bringing out a book titled Body Language, which will a sort of diptych including two collections, one titled Body (on parts of the body) and one titled Primer (on numbers and letters).
Labels: 2.4, mark cunningham
