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J.D. Nelson

Seasonal Poetry

laser franks kitty

collins hollered

a lion-faced onion


with batting phenom scott scuffs

good morning everyone I’m scott


and here’s how you hit the ball to the other side of the parking lot


canned knee

right there in the can


a knee

in sauce


looks good to me

blee blum blum num


thirty cans of soup in the cupboard

I can’t stop counting them

and then I’ll eat one and have to start all over again


microghost leads the microway


move thru the wall like a pharoah

is ann the lark one of these too?


what good does that do for poetry pages?

future jargon like blah oughta blee blaw




the symptoms of the system are crawling up and down your shine

releasing the cannibals into the population would result in a rainbow of meat


dream about the nikes

mr. tree is wondering why we haven’t



ghost tree in socks


you were talking about the rabbit who created the world

you make the knuckle face on magic george washington’s birthday


ghost is a cook

now eat some ghost food and see what it’s like


and earth gulps it down, friend


look for me in the room tonight

I will be the one blinking and beeping


with the broken machine parts littering the ground all over the morning

the giants walked into our realm and stole our technology and ate all of our wafers


is yellow another blue, but inside out?


stark’s white toast makes for a good meal with a little meat or beans


to set the iron fables upon the highest name

energy bars like mars


water was the green light and it flowed down to us in the canyon

hark wadder that ladder


spotted like a leopard going around the corner to eat the people wearing only fox socks

a new earth would have been built for it to be seen when kissing clowns


dialectic gossamer

I see dr. doom in the tree


a shark taco for you

I will have like 100


on the last earth we know of

live the caterpillar people with the spiny spines


the lard of the heavens


london: this is the elf of the prawn sandwich


hard-hipping lemon is the lee


and when bugs are the deep and dry


to hear that bear is the clump


when I was the lock of the loving head


the old bridge and that caring face


I was the favorite of the cooling

J. D. Nelson (b. 1971) experiments with words in his subterranean laboratory. More than 1,500 of his poems have appeared in many small press publications, in print and online. He is the author of several collections of poetry, including Cinderella City (The Red Ceilings Press, 2012). Visit for more information and links to his published work. Nelson lives in Colorado.