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Godiva Goes Riding A Valentine Without Rhyme

Kraken Press, St. Paul Š 2012 (Year of the Dragon) by Mike Finley & Dan McGleno

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Tracks Godiva Goes Riding.................................3 The Creation of Woman ...........................6 The Rescued Man....................................8 Girl Cake................................................9 We Have a Deal ....................................10 Cup.....................................................12 Undeterred...........................................13 13 Years Old.........................................15

Big Ass Angels......................................16 Sue McGleno.........................................18 Beauty and Wisdom...............................20 Damn Your Eyes....................................21 French Restaurant.................................22 I Know Who You Are..............................24

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Lord Godiva Sleeping I shall join them in watching the parade behind the blinds, hidden in the curtains, peeking between two fingers. I never possessed you, it was quite the reverse – you laid out in satin like god's own beauty me soaking the pillow with tears

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While this took place The seraphim sat perched on cloud tops Pointing fingers of indictment below But woe unto them

The Creation of Woman There are 1189 chapters in the Bible In the second chapter of Genesis Adam was promised free rent Complimentary groceries and eternal life

Angels had never seen women And upon further investigation They passed through the veil With the hope of impregnating the fair ladies in Genesis 6

The only requirement was compliance But paradise only remained for a few short verses By the end of Genesis 3 Adam tried to impress a woman

Everything was floods and arks after that For the next 1183 chapters

Everything was apples and snakes after that

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Only one concept remains constant Angels and men found a new object for their affection Girls had become a higher priority than the creator

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The Rescued Man

when she brings him red meat

i am like the piano you play that always falters up ahead

it's the love of the dog sleeping curled at the monastery gate

a man but also a dog needing something to be brave for i praise the day you gutted this fish, and zipped away the offending spine pull me to bed with you tonight let me sleep this curiosity off the way the lion feels for his mate

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Girl Cake

Or lamentations of the past

Nobody understands A woman’s thought process On the day of her birthday Like the village baker

And as her mouth begins to pucker To extinguish flames, transformed to wishes It is not affection that she covets She simply wants dessert

For he has placed one thousand cakes In front of the fairer species And has deduced from these observations What the majority will miss When eyes peer through the candles glow Which punctuate the candle tops A woman’s thoughts will not align with loss

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We Have a Deal

if does whimper – I don’t know.

The woman was hanged onstage and the lifting sprained her back and since the opera things have been difficult.

She is the general directing the attack indicating with a nod what happens next and how.

When she is in spasm, I knead out The knots and tangles from her spine.

She is the wounded lioness staggering up a rock And despite the pain She will make it to the top

When I massage her I work from her neck to her soles. She whimpers like a doe,

So that when we say farewell and she beams at me as now, on the railway landing, heading off to war, 11


She will be the femme She will be my lion-woman. And I am her man for the duration

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Will pale in comparison To a Champagne flute smeared With lipstick kisses

Cup When I find the Holy Grail I’ll bet the Vatican will contact me To offer a pittance for its return But I think I’ll sell it on eBay Collecting all the shekels it will bring So the two of us can swill down Dom Perignon The chalice of a Messiah Certainly holds some swag But wouldn’t the Holy Savior agree That a wooden cup guarded by cherubim

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Undeterred

despite steam rollers making asphalt road of me making crunching and popping sounds of my bones

en route to our rendezvous i am handed a lit stick of dynamite and being polite I do not refuse with blackened face and smoldering collar i proceed, failing to notice the two-ton Mosler safe plummeting from a fifth story window though badly accordioned i make my way to you

electrical sparks from fallen electrical lines touching me and turning me into leaping swastikas in the air so many efforts made to keep me from you the locomotive rushing from the hastily painted tunnel

despite stepping on countless rakes that that boink me in the face,

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me poised for what seems like eons above the manhole hole before falling the wet cement awaiting me below is hardening but do not doubt I will be with you shortly

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“Would you like a Marlboro red?” I lit it for her as she pulled back her wimple

13 Years Old Tom Thumb closes at 11 p.m. At 11:06 a Bonneville pulls up And two nun’s pop out and bum rush the door

Exposing her hair and closing her eyes And when that smoke shot down the pipe The Holy Spirit gives me reason to know

They are in need of cigarettes But the cashier must be a Lutheran Because she refuses to answer the ladies prayer

For the first time… I was absolved

So the brides of Christ are in a black mood And brush past me and a friend Who have spent most of July in this parking lot “Excuse me sister” I called out

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Big Ass Angels

that no one is prettier than anyone else.

Beauty has always distracted us from the truth. Adam in Eden was deceived by Eve's eyes Was she good or did she just look that way -a man never certainly knows.

Did you think that after wading through this life with all the misery caking its sides, that heaven would taunt us with nubile starlets with halos taped to their heads?

Artists likewise get taken in. Given a choice between naked beauties to base the saints on, and lumpy people from around the town you know which way they're going to go.

The eyes tell lies, what we call beauty is just temptation, is just a lie. Help is coming, dearest friends. A bell will sound and all will know what we hoped was true, but could not quite believe.

Women of the world, take heart! From knowledge the masters were blind to,

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We are beautiful, beautiful, so beautiful And then we are beautiful beyond even that. Don’t just see it, you have to believe it and as long your eyes alight on another, you must hold on to that truth.

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Her eyes began to open Perhaps too tired to be curious

Sue McGleno Nothing can magnify a guy’s insignificance Quite like Valentine’s Day When he only has 318 dollars

I held out my tribute A cage containing a canary Who I had taken the liberty of naming Cecil

My girlfriend deserved to be taken to France Where she’d drink Champagne And buy Parisian lingerie

I don’t know how much time passed But I think we were afraid to talk Because words deflate moments like that

But desires can be whimsy So I just stood in the doorway With my alternate gift in hand

Then Cecil began to sing And Sue McGleno cried I closed the door and crawled into bed with her

Then as if angels whispered in her ear

It was then that I realized 19


Paris was simply‌ people, buildings, and food

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Beauty and Wisdom there is a well in the iris and everything tumbles in and no man is immune from this characteristic error beauty looks like wisdom because the eyes amaze us something that wonderful must see something

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Damn Your Eyes

through the room

blue windmills turning sunlight into bread the murmuring turbines of you

venus flytrap closing on some hungry living thing

the gills of the goldfish in a porcelain tub languid petals of unplugged fan spiraling in the breeze quick wink of the guillotine flared skirt of mushroom lightswitch squirting darkness

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French Restaurant

Pop the cork my lovely And behold the earthly treasures All this can be yours If you just name the price

Christ said to Magdalene I gotta hit the can Bringing her a moment of relief

The fulfillment of this contract Hinged on producing an offspring If the messianic line were to be corrupted

She couldn’t decipher The entrees on the menu Knowing any noteworthy whore Should be able to read French

The Black Angel smiled And pulled from his pocket a vial Containing perfume of the flesh Guaranteed to urge forbidden acts

That was the invitation That the Black Angel needed To descend upon her table With Champagne

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You’re preaching to the choir My methods are proven I’ll let you in on a secret Every woman understands And just this once I’ll give it away for free There’s not a man living That can keep his focus After being subjected To a short black dress And a fresh coat of lipstick

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That I peel away the mask And see the damp light of your seeing O my loving loved one My huckleberry friend Cast with me up the waters, We float, hands close But never touching How many times I have longed To hold you in my arms And give you kisses deep My silent, good companion You the mind inside my mind You the breathing presence And though you have never spoken I have wooed you all this time My other, my angel, my flower

I Know Who You Are Day after day Like a lover with a wound I keep after you What have I wanted to give you all this time That I keep making offerings And promises of love Why do I run to you every chance I get And tell you again of my ardor As if I had the answers As if I had the cure For all of the sickness That walks through the world It makes sense to me

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I write and you read without words

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Lady Godiva Goes Riding  

A collaboration between Danny Klecko and Mike Finley, their first

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