this is from a series of poems, a whole series of a new book that i've called "Poems and Chants." The work is greatly varied, and all were written during a two week journey through France, and they are as varied as the country and mercurial as my moods. To me, poems are the measure and beat of every step we take; the beat and the jewel inherent in each moment, either ugly or beautiful, but always striving to capture that thing that holds us in the day or that we capture in the eye-lens. I may or may not succeed, but always, i try. This one was written as part of a word game in which i was given only the first line (also the title). The rest spins from that. I'll post more in the series as time goes on. Apologies if these are in the wrong section: i'd be happy to pointed elsewhere. Cheers - Sadi RP

Don't You Go Thinking

Listen you, don't you go thinking
You know. Always it gets us into
Trouble. Some rum-tum rubble of
What you thought I'd be, think I am.
Would that I were that! So not
As you see, veins open, I bleed
On my knees - your virgin suicide,
Bride.

You've always had me wrong.
Elsewhere you seek your dark
Pride, a bride to take to bed
But not to mommy. I'm as holy
And as filthy as the best - worst -
Those you think so above me.
I levitate them, then walk
On their backs, take from each
What I want.

I'm your bright electric whore
The blue madonna too - so pray.
Pray tell: Who did you think
I was when you did me: some
Saint, stiff with holiness.
Oh baby, I can surprise
With the best.

sadi ranson-polizzotti
paris. france. 2004