E·ratio Issue 10


Remote Actions


by John Lowther





The strike starts the poem and dispenses luck


               Words turn

  and start lining up

The elbow is a patrolled edge—take it

  and another less with the seeing, more

  with the getting

Until there is nothing


No common pool to the left

Only paid seeps to the

Right.                          mysteriously against those who

The poem starts the mass strike, like an eight on

     the break.





Descant not waiting here all day in the hallway

Honey knees are packed.  Saddle eyes

It’s a long haul way back

     but this looks nothing like what hours are.  Days.

I can make minutes feel.           Disem

Powered.  Rails converge and skinny trains

   play tug with a noose.

A nest of bees looks empty

   flatfoot and declarative

Theatrical architecture where no other notes are


   palliative to the test.

Imagine there is no welcoming Commune.





No 3.



What.  are you thinking

Blue jeans

A tax.

Everything feeds

   going on life with a second


Trunks sneaking up with PhDs

Like aspirin in the ram

Takingout Trash



No business like show business.





This inky eye (what do you ink?)

The ink do you want dry,

Hear half sum.

Why do you laugh?

   a balloon trying to climb a mountain of ice on ice


Liner on the notion, optioning anchors

In a line is a way of saying back off

When you have ghosts smuggled up the stairs

All of Wednesday behind you.

Go to hell with your metaphors.


Laughs are rooms, whispers the way out

Not loading lens with it

Nailes into keys, a tapped


Includes the bill and the back way out 





Eleven thirty five pants on fire

From the nudes at church church.  Tapping gnot a

     tone towards.

   flaming horshwhip Negativity up the railing

     heretofore uncly



Like trick transit on

   gesturing saidways. sins sem sauce.

It is not my fault, save in failing it, not saying it

Touchy Stealy.  You are hearing me but I am only


Do you like the arrangments so far?

My cloudlines are low with socks and lines on them

     footnotes nothing really.

Do you like the arrangement so far.  That’s my


Away, where it started with, or already I am






Trim it up like stone.  Can’t see the body from here

         anyway.  This mere is mere and not reflective,


Torn, of context forlorn just becauze.  Candles.

Steak knife rips through bill.  Property is theft

Eight Ninety-Nine but Thirteen w.postage

   like a salesman in front of it.

Fattening affect.

Hawk my mutter.  WWI.  What do I owe.

The banality of deeds like cheeze

     sticks to the wrapper of an egg mcmuffin

     built into the leviathon.

Public meat for punk.  No

poem so much as prison standoff.





There wd have to be smiley fancing

         for our learning steps___  tires squeaking

         distantly and then again

         and an engine.  Not now!

Cops are breaking in.

Going back to cut the tape is key.

Don’t situation comedy me.

         led by beepers, or at least

         honed as user patron client consumer subject

         held by / alien in

Weight-like steam shovel your spinal larnyx

         making bills

You have expeditious slush

A new

It.  Fractured my skull thinking about


     fuck off the stamp, throw the postcard away.





Outlaw Ballad #9



Good.  The half sent   born

       wasting previous thin minutes

       seen and not heard.

                          Wallow if you must he’d say.

Holding the candle

Cynical gravitas, shovel some crap

Corrected putterance, getting head

       ache in the convertible

     anime muscle spasm recidivist modem   ant.

I let them in when they said that.

   nothing worse than modern art.

My porch hat on tornadoes.

Needle drop inn.  a gin.

After museums.

Gunned down in the street.





Grand Theory of Nope



Stepping prompt and turn and swing

         pulling laws is when

        around the corner

          dim bells top plank to, a pace of umpires

        hostage license application procedures

        kickback hotel liason


And if not, why not?  Hiatus

Someone said their wouldbe

Hiatus upon hiatus’ yet to

         bamboozle any seats.

Hunching shameless for corner traffic

So convinced to want to not to disbelieve

   but nope.





Elsewhere is fine.  Elsewhere is more than adequate

     to the shape

     and will cover shipping

Practicing my blue words for urban mythology

Which I have to on the way to the bank.

Stopping off gravy.  Flow my tears Please

But when falling we tend to go down.  To

Up on hopes I am the diagnosis of

A cheesecake at room temperature

You’ve seen all this before.  Like famed roadside


Glitz and eats and tshirts popcorn cassette tapes

Country favorites rotating hotdogs on a warming

     conveyance to their immodest end

Curs on the by way.  Cultures in a pear tree dish

     sucking signal from the sky.

Elsewhere is fine, elsewhere is a peach.





copyright © 2008 John Lowther


John Lowther is a member of the Atlanta Poets Group.  His work has appeared widely in both print and online and has been anthologized in Another South (University of Alabama Press).  He is a curator at Eyedrum Gallery in Atlanta. 

E · Poetry Journal