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Show Poem… Fiery chicken fries are back / Aug. 22 / miniBar KC, MO #poetry 

/ schwervon

Schwervon!

image
photo by Jenn Schnabel

I want you to want me
To show you to show me
The way
In and out
Of the world
Of infinite gratitude

You supply the night baby
I’ll supply the love.
Dog on a leash
Looking backwards

Flap jacks and bean bags
Roadside biscuit
Show me your butter
Show me your honey
Show me your gravy

Riding through a water fall
Of gravy
High fiving
Our way to the top

Swimming through hot grease
Cooking with a fire extinguisher

The earth provides
Bottomless anxiety
And endless free depression sticks
Fear changes nothing
Fiery chicken fries are back

Lifetime supply of pizza
Breakfast burgers
3 way pancakes
Nothing compares to you

This block of cheese feels like
A block of marble
I can almost taste it.
Like licking a rock
Making love to a rock.
A beautiful salty smooth rock.

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The scariest ones are the scarredest… Sat.March, 21 / JR’s Lightbulb, Fayetteville, AR, #Schwervonpoetry 

/ schwervon

Schwervon! Show Poem from Fayetteville.

Schwervon!

Fish in a fish tank
Fish on a plate
Fish in the bathtub
Swimming all around me
Playing by the crooked rules
No wires, no hooks,
And no digging straps
Documentary film making at it’s best
Sitting back
Riding the road
Taking the turns
Swinging from the trees
Not beating the shit out of things
Junk yard wrecking crew
Pull gently and push rigerously
The dogs are afraid of me
Until they get used to my scent
Everything feels so expensive
In chilly evenings
Things get colder
They’re more beautiful now
Connect the spots on the sidewalk
Follow the pathetic that
Reveals itself to you
And
Always remember
The scariest ones are the scarrdest
Sometimes the best
Conversations at parties
Are with the lampshade.
And the cat

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My paper shoes are ripped

/ schwervon


We wasted so much time
Fearing the unknowable

Stare into the eyes
See what will take you places

Crave new voices
Face the monsters
responsible For all the good music.
Hang out in the backstage

My paper shoes
are ripped

Feel the mud
Between my toes

Pointless are
The straps on my pack

empty buildings
heated and lit all night.

Hurting people I don’t know

It takes days to recover
From your visits.

I wear neon
To avoid
Being hit by cars.

In nature
Nothing is equal

Whistling helps fill
The empty space

The trains that fuel the trains
A safe place to jump
A warm place near
The tracks