Poetry

John Whitworth: Three Poems

Banished Banished to his desert island For a thousand thousand aeons (Trust me guys, he had it coming), Lex Luthor listens to the classics, Longhaired stuff by Brahms and Mozart, German mostly—yeah like Hitler— Sweeping in and out like sea sounds, Crashing waves and shimmering shipwrecks. It’s a cinematic shorthand: Ancient music equals madness, Madness means world domination, Splattering shells and marching armies, Fascist boots mean sounds orchestral. Democratic guys like demo- Cratic music—yeah, like Elvis. Superman would kill for Elvis.                    John Whitworth   Dad’s Moral Compass Dad created such a rumpus When he lost his moral compass. Did he leave…

Subscribe to get access to all online articles