Jake de Peuter
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(the horatio monologues) vii
In Europe of the fifteen hundreds, everything was usually postponed ‘til spring. Warmer weather dried the roads and the soil; and plows, carts, and armies didn’t get bogged down in mud. viinow that it’s mayand the frozen roads have thawedand the thawed roads have dried and ruttednora’s father’s forsaken wittenbergleft his stores and his house Continue reading
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(the horatio monologues) vi
Though primogeniture, the passing of an estate to the eldest son, was the norm in sixteenth century Europe, it wasn’t unusual for estates of the Holy Roman Empire to be divided between sons. Beyond this observation, these lines are fiction— the biography of a fictional Margrave: Who in life, got it all together; and in Continue reading
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(the horatio monologues) v
Europe was dominated by Christianity— first Catholic, then the Protestant Reformation. Members of the clergy could come to wield extensive power and influence in their regions, beginning with the officiating at the rites of passage….v abandon your studies boycott a futurea country with trails and lanesroads through fields and forestsvillages of the poor and their Continue reading
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(the horatio monologues) iv
ivdaydreamthe words you cannot read abandon themstare at a space on the wall where nothing’s writtenin the gallery of your head on a wall hangsa perfect rendering of a pretty wench’s facean accurate remembranceof what her paps and her hips do to a gowndo arithmetic think fingers calculatethe number of months of weeks of daysbefore Continue reading
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(the horatio monologues) iii
It was an anti-romantic era in Europe, especially among the nobility and the wealthy: Most often, marriages were arranged to serve political and economic agendas. And people in vestments usually had a second— a third— even a fourth religion. And the relationships between teachers and students, and masters and apprentices in both the trades and Continue reading
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say i’m
say i’m given leave from my evenings and the nights of my weekfrom the books i read and the paper on which i writefrom my mornings and my weekday afternoonsthe lectures and the lectern at which i standleave to ride in a merchant’s carton the road out of my entire life Continue reading
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five oclock’s the first to leave
five oclock’s the first to leaveit also goes out through the staffonly doorits mouth’s a horn it leaves behindits voice is the sound of the hornits word is its voice that goes out in the rainthat goes through the rainwithout an umbrella without getting wetit wraps itself around the parking lotit gets into parked cars Continue reading
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the hipwaders
after you’ve movedthe pipes through the thigh deepdew and drops of riverwater hunched on the grassblades on the leaves on the cornhusks when you come in leavethem out Continue reading
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in a driveway
in a drivewayfar in the north of the cityat an hourin one of the long nights whenbedroom windows in the house next door becomelightbulbsa gallon of blood pulls open a car dooras the kids next doorbegin to dress for school returnthemselves to the levis they wore yesterdaythe blood turnsbends itself at the knee shapesa skirt Continue reading
About Me
I have a day.
Jake's Flea Market 