Big Thank You
by J. B. Bryan, 2006
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“Big Thank You should be kept out of the hands of young people and should probably be banned. JB Bryan, masquerading as a befuddled, scrubby-but-wannabe wise man who loves his wife and little girl, writes Zen-like lyrics that are obviously anti-capitalism and probably anti-Christian. His poems are radical-left politics in the worst sense—he ignores the body politic, he mocks our government and he tries not to participate in our society and economy. If asked about his political affiliation, he would probably identify himself as a Peaceful Anarchist who likes to garden and paint. The worse characteristic of the book is that the poems are fun to read, unusual and surprising in perspective, even LOL funny.”
–Bobby Byrd

Cave Paintings

the airplane was never invented
automobiles run on saltwater
Spanish explorers landed in the Yucatan
really dug it & melted their armor into jewelry
all houses are built of mud or straw & face the sun
money went extinct with the Roman Empire
plumbing was a good idea tho
but that's 2000 years earlier
realized by the Snake Priestess of Minoa
Zuni waffle gardens remain our agricultural model
compost is holy
democracy outlawed war
slavery never crossed anyone's mind
the airplane was never invented
today's steam powered wagon only goes 20 mph
everyone has the afternoon off
most people walk to their market
China perfected the city of bicycles
praise be at some extraordinary moment in Kansas City
Charles Parker discovered BeBop
there was never a god but the living earth
science investigates co-existence
prudence, frugality & respect powers culture
women teach harmonious sexual relationship
everyone works for everyone
olive oil remains a primary resource
long delicious feasts are our international pastime
poetry readings aren't boring
but opportunities for vicarious lingual psychedelics
“love is all you need” said The Beatles

Life of a Minor Poet
“It's very difficult to make your work be about what it's really about,
& then it's usually not about what you thought it was.”
–William Wegman

people read my poetry
& either want to clean up the house
or go on vacation
I ask how to exist
sumptuously in relaxed clarity
& use every square inch sincerely well
a plainwoven raucous strategy
a rudimentary jubilation, a vigilant dissent
what else but grow a house
into a muscular alimentary complex
Great Grizzly Peach Splendor = “family”
this started out as a hymn
turned into manual labor
then fell backwards into a temple full of skunks
this is why I live on Guadalupe Trail
dogs bark at night, birds sing at dawn
prayer flags shredded by sun & storm
out in the studio against all odds
I work until done
fundamentals for enjoyable defiance
a refusal toward excess, an economy of motion
a world brought into being by enacting what to bring
“could be someone sawing wood, peeling carrots,
or trying to play a broken instrument”
if all else fails, stir-fry
leftover rice with onions
serve with grilled fish caught in the lake
kitchen more true
than all talk sold as “heaven”
green olives stuffed with feta cheese
wine made with apricots grown across the road
same old moon, same old sun
the characters combined mean brilliance
late at night moths bombard a reading lamp
shall I walk alone or linked
with every scrap of helix & molecular gunk?
red violet flowers on the bull nettle
wild gourds move slowly up the fence
unable to get rid by pulling up
dig down—a tuber as big as your head!
what gathers in the belly?
greyboned elms roadbent & stalwart
an acre of delicate ochre twigs
all that's left of penstemon & wild rose
a tolerable vanquish one hopes
being time for the time being
inarticulate history of make-do
when my neighbor starts her chainsaw
the cat leaps the fence into a yard full of dogs
this poor land is where poets dwell
the little story never fully explained
what sure pith might be sure enough?
in spite of miscreants & scoundrels
relax on the ramshackle porch
resist progress
interestingly
never but this
embody woodpecker

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