A couple weeks ago, I purchased a flex-a-tone. I love it so much, and vow to record weird sound poems with it, forever. Three strange wind chimes/bells also surfaced in the house. They are from France, and are rocking my world. This is a video poem, showcasing these new awesome sounds. The images are from the living room, the text is the last line to a poem, “To Leo, on his Lunch Break,” which is featured in my forthcoming chapbook, Brave, Wicked Sailboat. “To Leo…” is a separate poem, having little contextually to do with this video. I like to think of the two pieces flowing into each other. The last line of “To Leo…” becoming the first line of this new poem. A sort of call and response.
http://vimeo.com/36055115
To Leo, on his Lunch Break
Old man, in your powder blue suit,
I adore you. Eat your eggs
and think about the Dodgers.
Save your orange for last
and watch the trains go by.
You have a book about birds
your name’s Leo.
Let me think about you
at the ocean. Let me think about you
with an old friend,
with a lightning bug,
with a woman wearing panty hose
and red hair.
Let me call the woman Helen.
Come here Helen.
Tell me not to be so sad,
to see you eating alone.
This is a diner, remind me.
People eat alone here.
Everyone is alone, even you.
And aren’t you a little happy?
Don’t you know someone
who can make you twist and glow?