Bradley Mason Hamlin, poetry in AnotherSun

Sacred Whore

Just give me 5 minutes

to change the world

a dark loan

so I can pay all my bills

and leave a little

chicken fried steak

something in my gut

but more importantly

let me hold all the whores

on every boulevard

and brush their teeth

just once

and let them have

the finest whiskey in memory

trickling down the throat

that ain't evil

your heart won't ward off

the devil's handshake

unless you let go of his hand

so give me 5 minutes

to change the world

a dark loan

a long death trap healing

down interstate 5

a promise

I will make good

I will remove the demonic

boxer shorts of the pope

speak halos

and try not to rhyme

but I need those street girls

first

the sacred sufferers of men

all of them

on their knees

speaking in tongues

the true language of heaven

with more power

than Jesus to heal

each of them

willing to be sacrificed.

Rubber Room Autopsy

Poets

like to talk about madness

it's a theme

like drunkenness

or evil

but why is insanity so appealing?

Perhaps poets

understand the fractured brain

more than most

I mean

what is more crazy

than the poet that thinks he

or she is a genius?

Especially

in the first stages of monster making

poets believe they have struck

true lightning

They fasten their words inside a book

and present it to the world

and expect what?

Acknowledgement and awards

for half-baked first stutters?

It is this very real state of madness

that keeps the poet typing

relentlessly

furiously

obsessively

in spite

of friends and family

telling them they should go get "a real" job

despite

the endless deluge of rejection letters

and lost lovers

the poet types on

knowing

he or she has the original spark

even though

the voltage is a broken wire

short circuiting

somewhere

inside the brain.

Summer Rain

Once

I knew a young woman

could pee like a man

we'd be drinkin' beer

in the park

and when she had too much

or just the right amount

she'd unbuckle her blue jeans

pull 'em down

arch her hips forward

and let out

a crazy yellow stream

most of us

would cheer her on

like a circus freak attraction

but sometimes

when we wanted to be cool

we would just ignore her

as if her act

was just as common

as summer rain.

Bradley Mason Hamlin

Born in Los Angeles, California. He served in the United States Navy from 1981-1984, altering his brain-waves enough to give him the writing virus. He began writing in 1988 with the conception of the metaphysical crime series: Alcoholman. He currently works as a publisher of limited edition books of poetry and prose at Mystery Island Publications. Hamlin now lives in Sacramento, California with his wife and tribe of wild children.



						Sacred Whore Just give me 5 minutes to change the world a dark loan so I can pay all my bills and leave a little chicken fried steak something in my gut but more importantly let me hold all the whores on every boulevard and brush their teeth just once and let them have the finest whiskey in memory trickling down the throat that ain't evil your heart won't ward off the devil's handshake unless you let go of his hand so give me 5 minutes to change the world a dark loan a long death trap healing down interstate 5 a promise I will make good I will remove the demonic boxer shorts of the pope speak halos and try not to rhyme but I need those street girls first the sacred sufferers of men all of them on their knees speaking in tongues the true language of heaven with more power than Jesus to heal each of them willing to be sacrificed. Rubber Room Autopsy Poets like to talk about madness it's a theme like drunkenness or evil but why is insanity so appealing? Perhaps poets understand the fractured brain more than most I mean what is more crazy than the poet that thinks he or she is a genius? Especially in the first stages of monster making poets believe they have struck true lightning They fasten their words inside a book and present it to the world and expect what? Acknowledgement and awards for half-baked first stutters? It is this very real state of madness that keeps the poet typing relentlessly furiously obsessively in spite of friends and family telling them they should go get "a real" job despite the endless deluge of rejection letters and lost lovers the poet types on knowing he or she has the original spark even though the voltage is a broken wire short circuiting somewhere inside the brain. Summer Rain Once I knew a young woman could pee like a man we'd be drinkin' beer in the park and when she had too much or just the right amount she'd unbuckle her blue jeans pull 'em down arch her hips forward and let out a crazy yellow stream most of us would cheer her on like a circus freak attraction but sometimes when we wanted to be cool we would just ignore her as if her act was just as common as summer rain. (c) Bradley Mason Hamlin 2003

	Bradley Mason Hamlin Born in Los Angeles, California. He served in the United States Navy from 1981-1984, altering his brain-waves enough to give him the writing virus. He began writing in 1988 with the conception of the metaphysical crime series: Alcoholman. He currently works as a publisher of limited edition books of poetry and prose at Mystery Island Publications. Hamlin now lives in Sacramento, California with his wife and tribe of wild children.