THE JO-TEL … illegal blog downfield

Shark coaches moot court competition, Shark gets bored, Shark writes poems on his Blackberry. Like the previous Ten Podium Weekend, these are off-the-cuff poems. Plus, the team won. State champs.
______________________________

“Let Me Take a Bathroom Break Before I”

The round
John Hanft
The round

Make it to your speediest argument right
In the middle of the moment when, contented,
You faint to reach out as if you might
Grab the robe and tug before you’ve presented.

Even
John Hanft
Even

“Brrrr Round Brrrr”

Now I have all the water I need
I’ve had more than enough for
A while now, like when I read
About water-pouring bottles, dashed

Our like live rebuttal on the ground
Table flashing, omitted, preventing
Your fucking argument from being sound,
You there with your bottled water.

“Horizontal Limit Line”

Do you think that you, your limit line,
Or you, your intersection of Petaluma
Blvd. and Gossage Ave., can proceed
Through this day and into dinner?

Does your opponent mind being gutted
Right then and there before you, full
Of Bots dots, can find an opening within
You, county engineer Dick Navone?

[more hardcore porn poetry below]

“Tree with White Flaring Buds”

Outside the window the morning turned
Into afternoon. My eyes siding back to
Being young in the summer from the learned
Discussion in a room. It’s something to do

Besides reading King Lear where fools
Counsel on the hearth and earls smell
Their way. Nevermind that the rules
Of the weekend don’t let you tell

Your school’s name, because if you look back
Out the window, you’ll see those tree
Branches in the sun, with buds that tap
On the window while you argue whitely.

“Non-Suit Standard = MSJ Standard; or: Laugh When You Turn”

I’m not that stellar, you quietly say
But really there’s black in your gray
When you turned to the stairs
Where the sun plays and stares
Before the merits of your summary
Judgment motion turn to chancery

“Stand Up for Bastards”

Standard up higher than your podiumed stance allows
You will address the judges as a bastard making your points
Ignoring for now the sun on the trees and how
Your argument shades the counter case, which joints

The disparate pleas. Stand up for bastards that
Never knew their coach, their order in the hindsight
Catching. Stand up, bastards, stand up so that
Before you well-meaning men may buckle as you alight!

“Hour After Hour After”

Dark smell of night falls from the lamps
That line the street. Your feet learn to turn
Less time, more walking, five or ten cramps
Somehow you even fall asleep.

Smokey air like at camp tumbles from the light,
That line of sight to the window, that yellow
Mark of living. Along the street the trees fight
The clouds for black.

Tight air of highway like a lampshade
That section of Lear with Lear on the hearth
And the Fool at his side in the tirade
Of wind.

“Find Ye Drunk”

Do you find ye drunk and on tha plane?
Do you order large beers? Find them drunk?
Please win the comp? You son of bitch I don’t think that Charlie wants to hear about Red Smitty right now even tho his head came clean off.
Answer the question.

“Big Difference”

Average price of the sushi rolls are
Not far from here you are not here
Not far from that sushi roll across
The table I sit there

“Daydream 101″

Five four-hour daydreams in the four-hour daydream
Of the highway. It splits the hill and enters SF,
Its trees arching like Magic replacing Kareem
in the finals to hit that hook shot to win. Best off
Were the Lakers this weekend and me if they make
The finals against Boston. When I was a kid my dad
Lifted me up. Even later than Minneapolis by the lake,
It was in the 80s in Pasadena and people said “rad.”