Dan, ‘The Man’, Can - Volume 16: Collected Poems 1950 - 2020

1

ON ANY SUNDAY

by Dan ‘The Man’ Jordana

As I lay now wasting away

On mine old and aching back

Lungs tarred, marred, befouled indeed

Mine hacking ribs do crack

What most do I at present crave

When writhing red with pain

But one peculiar, plus-size pillow

To place beneath mine swane

I summon thee, mine only Daybo

Mine youngest, strongest boy

To go seek out this sacred pillow

Lest mine back be broken, destroyed

Eighteen-by-eighteen, young Daybo

The dimensions that I require

Your Brother Joe has quit the hunt

Our relationship expired

With haste, mine boy, you must now ride

To each surrounding county

Check every store that you can find

Which may contain mine bounty

You call me, son, with queries aplenty

Describing cushions that you have found

“This one’s wide, that one’s long,

The other is fat and round”

Listen, Daybo, mine favorite boy

Mine youngest, strongest son

Of all the pillows in God's creation

Eighteen square is the only suitable one

Now, I’ve just ordered one online

But, mine boy, you passed the test

Sorry to waste your one day off

With this fruitless pillow quest

2020

2

FLIES

by Ryan Johnson

i woke up this morning

heart thumping sick

the sweat dripped cold

and soaked into

my shirt

the couch

the sun poured in hot

stale

through dusty blinds

and sparkled off the

silver rim

of the last

beer can

two black flies

were crouched on it

wings buzzing

their little suckers

tasting the warm beer

stuck

in the mouth 

i shooed them off

and

spun the can

to feel the weight of

the beer left

inside

and poured it down

my throat

hot

sour 

beer

as i swallowed

i felt 

a catch

a squish

deep in my throat

two dead flies

little suckers

1990

3

ON COMPUTERS

by Gerald Johnson

Roses are red

Violets are blue

I only use computers

If they’re brand-spankin’-new

2006

4

OCTOBER AMERICANA

by Jeannie Johnson

Walking down the road I’m lonely

The waning moon so cold and only

Yellow leaves scrape past me pronely

On spectral gales they saunter slowly

The trees they waltz and whisper high

When winds shift west you hear them sigh

Hard pinecones rain from orange sky

One hit my head and made me cry

1951

5

ALL I WANT

by Pan O’Nays

All I want is to be the sea

The ocean is all I wish to be

My rippled surface calm and serene

But deep inside I’m quite obscene

My reefs, my trenches, my big blue desert

Where brutish beasts gore, rape, and maim

By steak-knife teeth does much blood squirt

But towards the light I am tame

All I want is to be the sea

The Pacific one, more specifically

The waves may crash, whomp, and careen

But they produce a sightly scene

The dolphins cackle and play so friendly

When leaping from the surf

But once submerged they are quite deadly

Smiling cutthroats holding their turf

All I want is to be the sea

People flock in droves for me

They burn, they itch, it’s guaranteed

On jellyfish stings the boys must pee

Peek in this tide pool where a baby crab runs

From young, grubby fingers, they squish them for fun

From dank inner cities their families do come

They litter, swim naked, and dance in the sun

All I want is to be the sea

To spit up seaweed, corpses, and kelp forest trees

The cliffs on shore tower high and steep 

And landslides bury beachgoers in scree

All I want is to be the sea

To be admired for sunny sheen

It would best any mall shopping spree

Or any house, car, or wrinkle vaccine 

I hate my life

1989