First of all I’m pleased to announce that New York City poet Joy Leftow — who you might recall is the production editor of the Cartier Street Review, author of Spot of Bleach, and involved so many other cool poetic endeavors I’m afraid I wouldn’t be able to name them all if I tried — has been kind enough to publish my “Low Kay Shun” on her renowned poetry blog (http://joyleftowsblog.blogspot.com).  Check it out!  And thank you, Joy!

Here’s the permalink to my poem:
http://joyleftowsblog.blogspot.com/2009/02/low-kay-shun-by-john-burroughs.html.

Second….  The other day I had an unintentionally close encounter with some oven cleaner.  We have a self-cleaning oven — but cleaning the top of the stove requires a human touch.  There’d been some baked on blackness on the stove top that I simply could not eliminate with any recommended chemical or amount of elbow grease.  It was driving me crazy.  Finally someone suggested oven cleaner (on the stove top?) as the one thing that could rid us of this black plaque.  The bottle said to use it in a well ventilated area – so I opened the windows and doors – but I still unintentionally breathed in some of it, which made me feel a little loopy.  So I came upstairs, changed my Facebook status to something like John “doesn’t like oven cleaner fumes.”  And a friend responded immediately with the suggestion that I quickly write a “trippy” poem in that state.  So I wrote something, for better or worse, just a stream of consciousness rhyme of sorts that I now present to you here.  Whether it even qualifies as a poem, I’ll leave for others to decide.  Here’s the text (which I wrote in FB comments), followed by a video that I made an hour or two later of me reading the piece.





John Burroughs at 5:18pm February 24

Nothin says lovin like somethin from the oven



Makin me Easy Off my rocker



Without getting me hot



Now where are those Tollhouse cookies I bought



Before the fumes sent me on a U turn



Made my brain cells burn



Made my belly yearn for something sweet



Some doughy gooey chocolatey treat




To devour as I regain my sanity



And indulge my vanity



In puerile poetry laced with profanity



Obscene words you mighta heard before



Like Cheney, Bush, Rush and Sean Hannity



What a chore




What a bore


Wishing they were Al Gore



But they’re nuttin’ honey


But bakin’ you for money
Getting more dough than the Pillsbury boy


Playing with pollution like it’s just a toy



Spinning you like a top
Makin you hop



Makin you poor
Makin you drop



Beneath the fiscal floor



While their dough just rises
And rises some more





Now where was I?



Oh yeah, in the oven



Bush and Dick are done now
Givin’ me their lovin’




Obama’s here and there’s nothing to fear
The coast is clear
At least for four years
The Republicans are done
Now they made me their nookie
Left me not a thing but this Tollhouse cookie
And a dear John letter signed “Karl Rove”

But that’s okay, ’cause I got clean stove.



http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=QlmqYojtLOc

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