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Issue 10 - A Journal of Letters and Life
Five Poems
by Bill Evans

Author's Links

The contest is not popularity.
I forget what I
Said next.
And now
We are back.
Off with
Their heads!
Become a good boy -
More stable.

Oh, flattery
Will get you
Kansas City.
Dignify experience,
Play hardball
In the big leagues
With the real heavies.
The fashionable vanguard
Of our telling personalities/

O flesh made Word…

To divide by zero
And not be imaginary.
She was the love
Of my life.
She had snakes
Instead of hair.
Special thanks to the horizon
For staying so unreachable.
They took away my
Pirate ship;
That hurt too!
Will you kiss
A hand? Will you
Lick a boot?
Came to recognize a hot
Sound when we blew one.
If it doesn't
Kill you, you're doin' Ok.

And grow, if not wise, at least
Arrogant and witty. Give the guy
His award. Throw in a TV.
Why, we could go anywhere
Believing in our everything!
As if a beautiful language
Were spanking a tree, don't
Listen to THEM, listen TO ME.

You've been bashed
Around, but
I think you're great.
Will you pose
Naked, while I
Write these poems?

Build a temple
In my mouth
For a racy goddess.

(Don't get yr crowns
Mixed up with
Yr thrones!)

May we dream
In tongues.

Last of the Wild Cupcakes

Arise, arise, you worthless fuckers
And get with it!
I've walked away
From more than this.

I am not
That one.

Many wished for wishes
And thought
Themselves clever.

Our platform
Is various
And uniquely satisfying.

If elected, I refuse to serve.

All applications must be
Danced in person.

The toady mentality
Is currently
"A rage."

Whose butt
Do I kiss towards
What stellar mediocrity?

Our serious career of
Being a sled dog
Has drawn to a
Subtle and tragic close.

No longer mentoring

Wake me when
It's over,
Or started, whatever…

You who are poets, imagine
A good one.
Kind of dumb
But cute. Points for trying.

You're not
A joker;
You're a player.
Be back
In a

You can't even step
In the same
River once!

Now that poetry
Is chic,

Our product
Exists. You can
Thank us for that.

So you won't be Saved,
But you may grow


Clean up
Is a
Chore or snap.

To woo. To cook. To make maps.

And naturally -

A big fish
In a small pond,
Or a small fish
In a big pond, or a GIANT
Fish in a COLOSSAL pond, or
No fish, no pond, just
, pondness: two principles.

It's morphin
Time. Power Up.
We may be
Never easy.

Very risky
To think.

"Yeah, loss should sing…"

Hold a grudge?
You bet.
Revenge? Why,

To have
Suffered so

The real weapon

Is the King's English.

Back by Popular Demand

I can count on one finger
The reasons
For being here
Bouncy and fit
Flush with outer
Space and a deck
Smack with aces
Ethernet surfboard
Troubadour tattoo
Slung saddlebag
Of pirate songs
Leaping from my power chord…

Quarters in
The meter
Darling, all

For you/

Any wild heart
With a half-life
Long enough

Any jet-pack knapsack
Of slacker awe
Stone-ready to commence
The elected transformation

Because we used
To be lost, now
We're found
Amazing Grace
Great ditty by
A slave trader
We used to be
Now we're ACTION

Get your whites
Whiter, your
Brights brighter

Fond nights
In detention/exile

Memorizing classics
While hand-cuffed to the bed post

Practicing my smile
As righteous snoozers
Euphemistically butchered innocent poetry

I have checked
With my parole board
And know this to be true

Besides, we got the ruby slippers


And of course
Through woe
Your invitation
Woke me and
For that I am
Serving girl from
Anyplace, Pa. -

Who I also can be

With renegade integrity

For mighty are the signs

How I Spent My Summer Vacation

In a suit of armor
On a nude beach
Beneath a flag:
Burning pants
On a mop handle --
Surfboard, long
Sword and trusty
Badminton racket, ho!
Beside a pile of torn-luck Lotto cards
Sleeping in the car
And eating air
Deciphering the, editing the… omens

Which got me here
I'd like to start there
Very happy to arrive
Either whole or in pieces

Positively ravishing
Tonight, dear scars
Let us utilize this moment
To notice everyone

Now we'll listen to the messages
Found on my machine

Is this Bill Evans the musician?
Bill Evans the weatherman?
Bill Evans the actor?
Bill Evans the stockbroker?
Bill Evans the publicist?
Bill Evans the broncobuster?
Bill Evans the philanthropist?
Bill Evans the producer of Cats?

Oh, take a little trip
Tour scenic Hell
You'll thrill to the descent
Plus the long, artful
Schlep back home
Break a billion rules
Sneak forbidden peeks
Duke it out with loss, metaphorically speaking
Loser, you too
Can be a famous poet
Proud owner of the tooth
That pierces the heart
And the mouth that sings

Hubris Was My Downfall

I never meant to kill my father or
marry my mother or
tear out my eyes and
become a kind of mangy
seer wandering around
what was it Crete or ancient Greece?
Anyway, Colonus, where the hell
is that? I mean it wasn't
in the plan, if I even
had one. Who me, king?
Well, fuck you too.
"Temper, temper." Yeah. Right.

And as far as that flying too close
to the sun stuff,
crappy technology
did me in. Not a bad
bad flight, as bad flights go.
Once again, I didn't listen.
Yuck! Feathers, blobs of
wax! Kind of goopy
but exciting, even exhilarating.
The necessary plummet
was a bit much. I believe I learned something.

However, my supreme coup de grace
was the creation of life
from used body parts,
an eclectic synthesis of
interests and careers spanning
years in med. school, engineering, a short stint as a neighborhood grave robber,
several high school summers at the recycling plant…
I truly feel that of all my failures,
this one particular brave example
speaks volumes for those clever human
qualities that make me unique.
Everyone dreams of giving the finger
to fate and death, blind witless authorities.
Ladies and gentlemen, I am that finger. I'm pointing the way.


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