Lyn Lifshin, the go-go boot poetry sensation. Alas, does Ms. Lifshin publish too many poems?
Well, not if they act like this:

http://fourampoetryreview.i8.com/four.html


Our word for the loved and the dead are the same,
the beloved, and once you’ve had either while you
have them, you don’t need any other living people
in your life

From: Kiss, Baby, The New Film

...a poem with what you would call "a smashing title baby" (Austin Powers).....and it is, a smashing title. A poem is really made out of two things and only two:

The Title

The Idea

The rest is just tricks. And I'm sure if Austin Powers reads poetry, this is the type of stuff he likes.

A Few Words About Tinnitus

I'd say it was about eleven thirty
or so and this car alarm starts going
off in the still of night. my door
still open to catch the last of summer
through there but then
it needed to be shut because
of the danger out there, it is just
everywhere you know. Outside, the street
lamp flickered a bit and the moths
kept mothing about in the halo
as if it didn't matter to them,
one way or another, just little bugs.
Over in the distance, the dark hills
were gently lit by the few lasting
glimmers and glows of the night
owls who creep into bed as slowly
as the neighbors who came outside
to turn off the siren, another false
alarm and they spoke a bit, went
inside to hit the switches there
lock the doors, some cursing maybe
or perhaps a round of gin rummy.
That one man was thinking of mummies,
I know it, I just know it.
I remember when that sort of thing
happened to me and I felt like
the ground might shake if I asked it to.
I honestly asked the ground to shake
and then the car started to make that noise again.
I wish there weren't such things as mummies.
The moths laughed plenty when I told them,
they sounded like pins, magnets and bells.