SHAKEN, NOT STIRRED by Ken Pobo

I figure that we need some
elegance in our windy lives
so I dig out the silver ice bucket
with penguins all around it,
pour stiff martinis.

Richard Harris returns
from the dead to sing
“Macarthur Park” to us.
He has arrived from Heaven
where streets run Drambuie
gold.  You can drink
heavenly footprints.  I clank

more ice into your glass.
The cop sky
knocks hard on our door,
looking for Mr. Harris.  Too late,

he’s already back in heaven,
blowing up mansions.

Kenneth Pobo has a new book forthcoming from Assure Press called Uneven Steven.  His work has appeared in: North Dakota Quarterly, Chiron Review, Atlanta Review, Amsterdam Quarterly, and elsewhere.