K E N T J O H N S O N
__________________________________________________________TWO POEMS
Sonnet of Questions for John Bradley by Tomaz Salamun
“Perhaps we could publish this in Slovenia?”
(Tomaz Salamun, from War on Words: The John Bradley/Tomaz Salamun Confusement)
Perhaps it is easy to forgive the ants their antness.
But who will forgive the antness its ants, John Bradley?Perhaps there are metals in the wine we will never be able to urinate.
But what if there is urine in the wine, and you taste and you say, I like very much the
wines of Slovenia, John Bradley?Perhaps you have written a pretty poem titled, “Where Are You Going, Stars?”
But what if all poems, written or unwritten, are just pulled along inside the great Going
itself, which is going nowhere special at all, so that the biggest fools are the Poets,
John Bradley?Perhaps two little tin doors come down sealing off the eyeholes of Tomaz Salamun.
But what if you took this tin-box-headed Tomaz Salamun doll and threw him in the fire
just to watch him melt, and the little tin doors popped open in funny terror,
John Bradley?Perhaps Peace Herself is growing tired and slightly pissed.
But what if Peace Herself is pissing in her bloomers because she just can't hold it
anymore, and this is darkly arousing to Real Men in Ljubljana and DeKalb, shall
they soon hammer their ploughshares into atomic weapons, John Bradley?Perhaps you think the loved one's nipples are gathering rain from a future century.
But what if the loved one's nipples just taste like rain, which is to say, like Nothing,
and what does this have to do with the mystery of love, and are you not afraid,
do you see what I mean, John Bradley?Perhaps your solitude smells like rhubarb grown by a deaf-mute.
But what if the deaf-mute smells like rhubarb and your solitude smells only like your
solitude, John Bradley?
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