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John Doe

"From the tiny poem comes the mighty lyric," writes John Doe, legendary rocker-singer-songwriter-poet-actor, leader of X (with Exene, of course), The Knitters and The John Doe Thing. And so to launch this, his own Poetry Slab, he has put two of his own poems on our blue table, poems which might blossom into full-grown songs at some point in time, but which will never wither, for they are forever preserved here in these pages. He offers these with an open invitation to all poets in this blue universe to contribute their own poems to this fleeting locomotive, poems that Mr. Doe himself has kindly volunteered to cull and edit. For consideration of your own poems to be included here, fill out the form to your right.


Web Site: www.theejohndoe.com

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The John Doe Poetry Slab
February 2007

Two poems By John Doe

   a big brown field

a big, brown field
where the grass is all burned
would slice your feet
even if you walked w/ little, tiny, baby steps

we are two crows
sitting on two fence posts
waiting for something to die
content to still be alive
we're just talking
as crows often do
there's no fighting
conversation w/ no struggle
struggling down below us
all the other animals battling to the death
& we're just talking
waiting for something to die
hot sun heats up our black feathers

on the horizon
there comes a rider
maybe a feast is riding this way
he looks kind of skinny
but we don't care
we make do
& we're just talking
as crows often do
as our feathers heat up
& wiggling snakes of heat come up from the dirt
there comes a rider riding this way

now that big, brown field's burned black
& a black cloud hangs above
the rider's gone
the dead look as though shaken
out of a bucket & scattered to the horizon
& we're still talking as we eat

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   raining like hell

raining like hell
washing away the snow on our mountain
too sad
Mickey Mantle still hits home runs
just not here
aren't you lonely yet?

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