Ivan Peledov – 4 poems


* * * *

now you have my shoe and voices of shabby prophets mixed with brandy
random excerpts from a cloudy sky swing on rusty hooks
but a good bugler plays only once in her endless life
songs of lost fisherwomen darkness in their guts
scarred air between two blares does not smell of anything
but empty trash bags and a monosyllabic ocean

* * * *

there are ponds in the form of sigils to draw
down disappeared deities
never to sit on their
iridescent shores means never to die
eden is one thing gold is another
infants throw empty goblets at skylights
from the backs of vultures
mutts older than jehovah wield
gray flags the size of stage curtains
pepper shakers the size of mason jars
moths love to alight on
the eyeglasses of young taxi drivers when oceans
sleep and iguanas
bully rotary dial telephones

* * * *

whether a south wind blows to or from the west
it licks the eyes of animals swimming in the darkness of flames
it adores heavenly mice that bathe the tails in wineglasses
junkies marry dwarf hippos but it looks into bay windows turned inside out
into the clouds gathered again to pirate vatican cult movies

* * * *

picture frames squeeze the void in the
cafe up to the point of emergence
dying flowers eight steps below
give out their last breath to anybody
who cares to get it now there is
plenty of garbage as usual
in the morning filling the universe
before the advent of the janitors colorful
remains the completion of boredom eternal
waste for children to play with
what i forget is worth a tuesday
a honk a trilby aliens laden with garlic
onions and communism from betelgeuse
a bogus adept of an obscure cult
the waiter too wise for the biped
beyond compassion says that what i
think of the cause of my pain is
wrong and there is
no remedy for it in the whole
world: just another bastard who appears to
have a master that kicks his ass
now and then but of course
he is ready to serve michael the archangel
with all his ears and mouths in a teapot
whenever i

 

Ivan Peledov was born in Moscow, Russia. By the end of the 90s he had moved to the US and now lives in Colorado. For the last five or six years he has written mostly in English, but seldom tried to publish his poems. His last publications, under the name Ivan P., were in Poetry Super Highway, New Wave Vomit, A Handful of Stones, The Beatnik, Black-Listed Magazine, all more than a year ago. His blog is at http://birdsorfish.blogspot.com/.

About gobbet

gobbet is a literary magazine dedicated to publishing the very best experimental poetry and prose. Intellectual perversity and explorations of dark themes are positively encouraged. We are only interested in work that is progressively experimental. We want to see risks, and we want to see them pay. No previously published work. Prose should not be longer than 1000 words. There are always exceptions. Send 3-5 poems. Include a short bio. Send submissions to gobbetmag@hotmail.co.uk Work will be published every 5-10 days. We also intend to publish anthologies of selected work published in gobbet. We will do our best to reply promptly. Most submissions will receive a decision within a month.
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