Ron. Lavalette's Writings
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Poem
Feb.16.2009
The Orange Room Review
Every nook held its gong, its cowbelltabla, tamboura, tom-tom, conga, guiroand that was all we ever knewexcept for how the landscape scrolledpast the tinted windows, lightsin little houses in tiny townswell before dawn on the fringeof the city, no one up but us,not even the paperboys. We’dhear the rev-down, feel the busdecelerate, suffer the first tugof gravity,...
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Poem
Feb.11.2009
New Works Review (Apr 2000)
I’m rudderless tonight,the forgotten lamb of visions,(as clear as yesterday’s sky)(as pointless as planets warring)the Loch Ness Monster:Nessitaris Rhombopteryx,the loneliest of creatures.
The last I heardyou thought I hated youbut I’m only a madman in Coventrystaring up dumb at the Moon.
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Poem
Feb.11.2009
Red River Review
She was old, so they beat her severely.She was old: they kidnapped her,drove her away stuffed in the backof her own stolen car. She was old.When she regained consciousnessthey stabbed her repeatedlywith her own stolen steak knifeand dumped her on the roadside;drove away, dreaming they were druglords.
She was old, so the wounds to her throatand the wounds to her...
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Poem
Feb.11.2009
Lynx Eye
Janey sits and listensto arguments in Arabicabout the quality of wateron West Bank kibbutzim—she takes no sides; findsthe contenders pointless,the point of contention dry.
Janey reads other people’s poetry,discovers dances beyond dizzy.She borrows occasional phrases,minces words and, sifting,shifts an emphasis, deletesa wasted measure, turnsthe tune and, lifted,...
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Poem
Feb.11.2009
Lynx Eye
Janey finds herselfin the furthest cornerof the darkest room:everything there is cool.She dreams of seamless daysand dreamless nights; shetrips in the hallwayunder unlit lights andsings to the tuneof untolled golden bells.
Janey gets lost in the atticbut she won’t come down:everything there is, is cool.
**Subsequently published at Wicked Alice**
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Poem
Feb.11.2009
Lynx Eye
Janey’s boyfriend steers his goateeand Metallica T-shirt down Main,wishing he had leathers and a Harley.From two to four, the empty ovensbake only air, and Janey has to breathe.Her mother’s echo recommends otherwise:a simple change of shift, perhaps. Janeysimply shifts from foot to foot,does not note the smallest changefrom one sad jukebox world to the next....
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Poem
Feb.11.2009
Able Muse (Audio Link Available)
(for j lopes)
I watched: her breasts grow largeHer nipples swell her bellyBarge-like ferocious with childComes knockingLike the moon at a midnight doorWhile angry he at home pukedand swore
Grudgingly she grew. HeDistracted, drunken, sunkBeyond his own oblivion,Telephones:I don’t remember what / if he said:The phone or he was nearly deador dead
And what could be...
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Poem
Feb.11.2009
Pine Island Journal
I want to have a farm he saidI want to make things growsun wind soil seedthe soft brown earththe laugh-blue sky ---
Backache was all I could answer,Downpour.Wheels against the barnrimmed with rustthe fallen gutterspoutsand all the grey and ancient boardsmade echoes of agreement in the air.
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Poem
Feb.11.2009
Maelstrom
Tues. nite / Wed. am:The prospect tonight of daylight tomorrow, the noiseson the second floor, the repetitive tiled hallways --...it hurts, hurts.Even deep Mingus on well-traveled tapes,even Nocturnes no use, no use.Bloody camel stubs in ashtray1329 boulevardcan’t forgetbone pulled from bone, ancient practice, barbarism...
Another sun unwinds behind another...
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Poem
Feb.11.2009
Poems Niederngasse
Janey thinks back on achesshe remembers asblades between shoulder blades,sudden and sharp, electrifiedtingle and shudder ofnerve impulses runningthe length of her left side,and the long flame of tendonstorn without warning.Janey has that history.
She lets it wash over herin the shower, lets it floodher temples, invites it inand feels the rushof red again,...
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About Ron.
(Sample published work at: EGGS OVER TOKYO)(Live blog at: SCRAMBLED, NOT FRIED)(Prose-ish at: SIX SENTENCES) Ron. started reading and writing poetry seriously in the late '60s, when a floral-necktied student teacher dumped a bunch of books on his desk, one of...
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