Quitters

 

Band of about 14
quitters, roaming about

done quit boards
and editorialships

demanded someone quit
but quit themselves

in this State of Quit
14 roam about

two quitting over
two others having not

and of the two
now roaming about

one demands the other
quit now or else

split on who quit first
the charge being false quit

meanwhile, band of 12
split over roaming

6 quit on the spot
over six not quitting

so now 6 are roaming
and 6 are not roaming

the non-roamers
split over banding itself

the roam-abouters
split over splitting itself

one from each band
call it quits on the fly

they meet, begin roaming
seeking The Big Join

they meet a stray
former quit leader

they form a roaming band
declaring quit forbidden

former leader sneaks off
at midnight, a stray

stray roams about
feeling a split inside

half that stray now
seeking The Big Join

half that stray now
seeking The Big Quit

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Orpheus of Pensacola 

 

 

Are tercets imperialist thugs?

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Now that the price of dicks has dropped

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Robotics. Minor? “Poetrics”

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Szezhoutron swaps out 80 brains

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One ton of MAGA flags docking

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This listing skiff, festooned in flak

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Do octosyllabics repress?

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Dredge up Doctor Salubrico

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Biometrics. Minor? “Friction”

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Detecting Debtor Joe’s a cinch

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Twenty tons of dildos docking

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Be fireball! flecks of carbonite

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Is description homicidal?

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Ask what dickbrains go for these days

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Genomics. Minor? “non-friction”

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Tweaking no-tan Tammy’s a hoot

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Fifty tons of bang dolls docking

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Swirl jolly in the anarchy

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Cruisin’, Jammin’
(or, He’s a Bitch)

 

 

Ass, in fact, is death
The return of ABBA, is death
In beautiful increments
Kittens grow, leaf twigs snap
Now the moon hovers above. Tease.
A sort of ass, in space
No help from moonlight
In birth, wars, and wooing
There was a blonde, right?
And a brunette, right?
And two kittens in pantsuits
Make that four
Plus, the invisible drummer
And 70’s asses swaying
A totentanz
By the millions

Ass, in fact, is life
The return of ABBA is, well
For the half dead
In beautiful increments
15-inch tires, 30-inch tires
By the moon or sun
Grinding, wearing, thinning
Dusting the roads
Tires oblivious to car frames
Car frames toting asses
Two thousand twenties models
Or styles, or makes
A totentanz
Do you have to look that up?
Really? One tires
Driving for the unstudious

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Rodrigo Toscano is a poet and essayist based in New Orleans. He is the author of ten books of poetry. His latest book is The Charm & The Dread (Fence Books, 2022). His Collapsible Poetics Theater was a National Poetry Series selection) His poetry has appeared in over 20 anthologies, including Best American Poetry and Best American Experimental Poetry (BAX). Toscano has received a New York State Fellowship in Poetry. He won the Edwin Markham 2019 prize for poetry. rodrigotoscano.com  Twitter: @Toscano200