bradley2

poetry
inchoate desires
odd jobs

Like Kodachrome but only better
by Eirean Bradley author info
I can give you sunday
coal at 4 am and
comfortable
rolling of the back of my hand
like december rain in the backstreets
of cardboard town
leaving scars and
caverns
placing reminders of
the cruelness of the season
your hands are something
of a mystery to me
(though I've never held them
and probably will not)
strong as rivers
creased
as a rule
from wringing and shaking
the calluses are telling
and I am adept at the
dreaming of histories
we were 8 when
we scaled Kilamanjaro
naked except for wool caps
a decade old when
we outstretched hands for change
at the EL stop on
clark and division
in our teens
I played bass
and you tenor
backing Ornette
in the back alleys of Pocatello
we shot bears in thailand
when we were 2 younger than
Davey Crockett
72 we raced
formula one Fords
in a denver parking garage
when we 18
we drank kentucky made vodka
with Huey Newton and
John Lennon
in a convent overlooking
a 24 hour carwash
and tomorrow
we'll meet on a rooftop
in your home town
discuss the weather
and I will knit you the stars
you will hand me
the pharaohs last dream before the 7th plague
and I will give you sunday

Eirean Bradley is a Southwestern spoken word artist who has been called: "a verbal chainsaw", " a pudgy wanna-be Christ" and "an uppity whiteboy". He's been published in over 35 zines and small press books and was included in Slam: The Competitive Art of Performance Poetry (Manic D Press). He's a 3-time semifinalist at the National Poetry Slam and has been an opening poet for such acts as: P.J. Harvey, Fiona Apple, Soul Coughing, DJ Hurricane and the John Spencer Blues Explosion. Eirean is the editor of the webzine Better Living Through Amplification.
All material copyright the authors, printed with permission.

^Back to Top^ Back to Archives

	Like Kodachrome but only better by Eirean Bradley author info I can give you sunday coal at 4 am and comfortable rolling of the back of my hand like december rain in the backstreets of cardboard town leaving scars and caverns placing reminders of the cruelness of the season your hands are something of a mystery to me (though I've never held them and probably will not) strong as rivers creased as a rule from wringing and shaking the calluses are telling and I am adept at the dreaming of histories we were 8 when we scaled Kilamanjaro naked except for wool caps a decade old when we outstretched hands for change at the EL stop on clark and division in our teens I played bass and you tenor backing Ornette in the back alleys of Pocatello we shot bears in thailand when we were 2 younger than Davey Crockett 72 we raced formula one Fords in a denver parking garage when we 18 we drank kentucky made vodka with Huey Newton and John Lennon in a convent overlooking a 24 hour carwash and tomorrow we'll meet on a rooftop in your home town discuss the weather and I will knit you the stars you will hand me the pharaohs last dream before the 7th plague and I will give you sunday
	Eirean Bradley is a Southwestern spoken word artist who has been called: "a verbal chainsaw", " a pudgy wanna-be Christ" and "an uppity whiteboy". He's been published in over 35 zines and small press books and was included in Slam: The Competitive Art of Performance Poetry (Manic D Press). He's a 3-time semifinalist at the National Poetry Slam and has been an opening poet for such acts as: P.J. Harvey, Fiona Apple, Soul Coughing, DJ Hurricane and the John Spencer Blues Explosion. Eirean is the editor of the webzine Better Living Through Amplification. All material copyright the authors, printed with permission. ^Back to Top^ Back to Archives