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BELLY WOP

    poem by Joseph Carcel
In his blue speedos he approached the dive like a lawyer late to argue an appeal. Face firm, communicating just determination, he loped his strides up to the ladder's rung then started his ascent to spring in air. So fast he rose that one who blinked would miss his rise and fall,as springing tip hurtled him with mighty thwack like thunder. He rose like light until his apex reach- ed, then flipped. dropped first his arms, then legs curved back, like spider's limbs, medusa's hair, his hard rock torso, light brown until it became a blushing stone on water turned to slate and covered soft water jewels thunder then cool him clap with
blue splash


POLLOCK
    poem by Joseph Carcel
Click here to view a gallery of Pollock's work
He dressed in dreams his canvas, mocked the things that humans see as things not needing repetition. He wanted, of merely human beauty, what his brushes and his spoons and sticks would vend of rainbow rage upon his universe he did not wish. This splatter man rehearsed his death in drips. The sirens called his arms and legs and wrist but he could not purge his metal hurtling soul nor calm it with a balm of any brew (or anything Jung knew). The omen screws and bolts and bits of broken glass, he tossed like gris-gris man upon his ride in paint. His lonely art gave no respite of pain until angry hurtling metal turned him into saint.