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Three Poems
Poetry by Chris Weige

Notes for a report on the total behavior of a skyscraper in the eye of a hurricane
A working cadre of earth scientists is hoping these forces of change will make your mind cloudy.
Not a month goes by without scientists, armed with computers and top-secret data, collusively
deriding crucial system programs and factors to "refresh" your memory.
The mystery is not in the advanced technological applications but rather in the crudeness of the
phenomenon and the far-reaching influence and impact of these operations.
To eyes filtering this spectrum, this is a true portrait of a dramatic era.
It may well take decades to pore over these unexplained facts and comprehensive mathematical
To improve the equation and aerial tides there must exist long-term insight and critical
introspection, to be fair.
They forecast for the stage long and short-term climates, worldwide temperature change, even
starlight and infrared/ultraviolet waves.  
There are floods coming as well as other natural disasters; A dozen earth-wobbles.
Trade and commerce are hardly contingent on governmental meteorology or the content of the deep
This process took months to hide.
Sanity light tonight sober gentle street.
Truth puddles get cold on leaves
But bide time counting every free-falling moon.
On a pillow of earth toxic freedom shocks the system,
Gas masks second hand bullet vests,
Caps of money make ugly the New Synthetic Limb and bruise-burn purple
the New Black.
One of these days God won't turn back but save.
Now we're waiting for the next extra special heat wave
In a cotton field sitting on a comet periodically real, 
Our brains mangled by the tipping stars, sunlight, sniffles:
(Bucketfuls because I do not belong, Xiaoxong.)  
The beaches, look at them, handmade dust and glitter;
Such sanitized shaved legs golden dawn and wired!
Such fires and baggage to sell or drown or split.
And due twice too, the echoes, listen to them - a murmuring nasal twang dark splinter;
Demigods with spit-shined halos hooked on woman heart and tight ass plucking strings,
Selling ozone and word-glue along brick avenues while the assassins sleep in the winter sea.
One of these noises will one day be covered by a moustache which will grunt
From the corner by an acid metal barrel filled with more sounds than whispers;
The orchids rub my skin sore but I only want more, so much more than another dull right turn,
So much more inside Xiaoxong like crazy air and sordid ballads, cotton mouth panties in my zipper.
Thick books on the oblong table you grunt I swallow yr bra and glove rabbit,
Then terrific wires tangled up in arms splitting up the fog while you walk the bed of toenails and giggle
And tickle like an ocean fish brandishing a wild chainsaw.
I love the inside beat and flower by the freak tide dripping down my throat
And conquering my spine right sunken and turned on the worm-word song-drama-farm:
Xiaoxong Xiaoxong, your very thoughts are the sky an prfct crumb:
Antidote to the lie.
The Universal Physical Response
+  Driving a car through heavy traffic has the effect of eliminating the pollen, thus providing crucial
assistance in a child's struggle with illness.  
+  Sometimes the responses are very much exaggerated, and take infinitely varied forms. 
+  For your reference, see Natural Habitat in the Age of the Biological Robot:  The Effects of Previous 
Challenges to Health (From the Perspectives of Allergens and Bacteria) by Putnam and Rhora.
+  They may even discover pollen on the common radio.
+  Fever victims, for example, arbitrarily play mind games in dealing with the charts in medical waiting 
rooms and have been known to be financiers of the covert operation known only as Sweat.  
+ - "...the color of the face.  Every responding physician took turns influencing the emotional
compartments of each patient on an individual basis.  The gasps of horror, the panting of the conditioned 
crowd, the intensity of the effects roused conscious meanings from deep within even my very self,
meanings previously assigned to only my nose, stomach, or urinary tract.  The significance of this to the 
unconscious mind, and to war and all its tributaries, is enormous and viewed by a select few as perversely 
+  Working at a frustrating job, watching life from the inside of your body without knowing it.  With some 
people the stress is over-rated.
+  Stuffed noses go their own way.  The family quarrel has symbolic meaning in this situation only because it 
makes others resentful and often begs physical response.  (Sometimes the pollen can be perceived as 
being the person.  However, the whole person (both body and molded mind) figures into the actual 
evidentiary pollen count and consequent stress on the subject's "life.")
+  "Everyone here has recognized at least a handful of the patients.  The upshot is that they'll grow up to be 
real easy-going."
+  Early childhood is only the beginning of a manufactured pattern of outside stimuli sent bent on wreaking 
havoc and programming brilliant minds to be clay targets for *demons in pinstripes. 
  • Sneeze if sufficient plant pollen or coin.

Copyright © Chris Weige 2002

Chris Weige –
is wide awake in America.
His work has appeared in the following publications in print and online:
Austin Daze Magazine, Power of the Word UK, Pig-Pog,, Sacred
Cow Productions, Literary House, Excitement Machine, Cultural Review UK,
John Grisham Is Dead, The Shadow Show, Insane Online, Spiritual Awakenings
Magazine,Spoken War, SnakeSkin UK, Poethia (Penn St.), Fluid Ink Press
(Australia), MadDog Salon, KOOP Radio Austin, Free Radio Austin, The
Alley/, and Krypton Physique. He is the Co-Founder of
Dig-Factory, an evolving Austin arts cooperative. To learn more visit

These poems may not be archived or distributed further without
the author’s express permission. Please read the license.

This electronic version of Three Poems is published by The Richmond Review
by arrangement with the author. For rights information, contact The Richmond Review in the first instance


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