CONCRETE MEAT SHEET ISSUE 12 - A Dan Provost
Dan Provost's poetry has been published throughout the
small press. He is the author of six chapbooks, a member of the BEARDS poetry
group and lives in Worcester, Massachusetts, USA.
Public Servant Blues
Will the mailman ever get around
to killing that aggressive dog who
almost takes his hand off every time
he delivers the mail to that poor white
trash family, which has five cars on ramps
and engine parts scattered all over the yard?
Pure hatred displayed by gnarling animal teeth and ambivalence
from a trailer owner who is constantly trying to pull his
shirt over his protruding stomach.
When you have very little going for you, and the
highlight of your day is torturing a guy who is
simply trying to do his job,
yelling obscenities, encouraging the family pet to gnaw at a limb for
The smallest amount of violence is always good enough to show off that
teeth grin and head to the liquor cabinet for a bottle of refreshment.
Another Example of Realism
I look for my name in neon lights
But it seems to fit better on a police blotter
With a pocket of emptied visions, unused condoms, and broken promises.
As I shuffle from my cell and pay my obligatory fine to the bored
I open the jailhouse doors, adjusting my eyes to the 6:00 AM sun.
Alive, and somewhat defeated.
Three Miles Away
See all the pretty pictures of co-workers spouses and children on their
clean, un-soiled desk…
Endearing trap of loving the bland…seeing the family together like a
Scattered three miles away are those who own no love, or family…or a
to live to warm their hands.
I see them scattered outside when I walk to my car—loners waiting for
liquor store to open.
Forgotten skin exposed to twenty mile per hour winds.
They have no furniture to place pictures on.
Only a countdown to death and accepting the fact that they are at the
It really is a very short drive…
Let me walk in a land of confusion.
Let me tire under a maple tree and contemplate the rays of a blinding
Let me cry under the intangible stars that never offer any answers.
Let me see armies marching home from battle-not to war.
Try to learn like me,
To think like me,
To suffer like me,
To love like me.
Offer empathy to those who need it sometimes.
Offer strong shoulders for those who cannot carry the burden of living.
Carry on dreams that others have told you are impossible.
Learn to seek truth, for any inner light is based on this simple
Please, Supreme Being—let me seize the moment with a brave smile, open
and an outpouring of pure, raw sensation.
Please…just let me bear witness to a beautiful scenario.
Just this once.
The ending is in sight
A crowd of people
isolated within themselves.
To leap far away, where eternal sleep will sadly suffice.
Shattering glass, wood, and blinds when you jump.
The mob will talk, and will forever be bonded,
maybe someday they will take their own risk.
What can it be
she hears laughter in the distance?
Maybe now taking hold of his hand
Her circumference abode is
not camouflaged but aware
Of Mr. Rabbit blanketed through the
Of the crow who caws for
the one spectacle that inhabits the
circle with her…
a lone worm; dead and frozen…
hunted for the warmth of the hunter.
He still holds out his soul… for
that one chance to place himself
She is on a journey of enlightenment…a
redemption worthy of Sun Ra and Apollo
to verbalize in legend and song.
There is no room for him within
the sphere of her crystallized domain.
She will sail with a discovered radiance…
He will pocket his losses and go…
Away from her rings of chancel beauty…
Because no alter of illumination can comfort
the chances that were never there.
no living today…
Outside, sandy winds
They are not coming home.
Sleek speakers never
say their words carefully,
although they try…
As glaciers melt
and the sun rapes young woman
who now know nothing
The depraved and morality lawless
will climb their horse,
and ride away…
never caring about the destruction they’ve