Steven
Page Poetry
"The same treacherous drive seemed
shorter. I passed the same
restaurants and I passed
the same baseball diamonds.
I sang with the radio
and listened to the tiniest
pieces of war that were
left. Yesterday I shuffled
past the protesters arguing
about pornography, racist science,
blue Smarties. Last night I
woke up laughing. My
dream had me face down
smothering, making Carolyn
think I was crying. Today,
I woke up and my
car was in flames. I rolled
down a ditch and the radio
couldn't tell me anything new.
I was hungry and I had
to go to the bathroom. Today,
I woke up and my
car was in flames. Today
was like any other Sunday
drive home, but today is
the day I fell
asleep at the wheel."
~Steven J. Page
Author Bio
Steven Page was born a migrant worker
He liked to dry clean,
automobile toss and sweat.
-Steven Page
Untitled
"Robon does liquor with her dad,
and all is well
Jeez I said and I wanted to drink the honey from her
navel.
"Your breasts are like the pomegranate split open" I
said and I knew I loved you
Robon was awake and her face said words and admitted
it heartily to herself only.
-Steven Page
Night
Toronto was a meeting place.
It is called 'The place where you first saw me'
Your nipple under my palm felt like a handful of
stars.
-Steve Page
The Waning Moon
What are these two people doing in the only good photograph of you and
me?
Your face is saying 'You wasting my time. I have
better things to do'
Mine is saying 'man the sun is in my eyes'
A week later, we shared a cigarette, lying on our backs
under the waning moon.
I can't believe you miss me.
The Big Parka was Kenny's
The big parka was warm.
Kenny wore it with a smile.
Girls liked to look at Kenny, he was a handsome man.
Kenny always had girls in his house.
Girls liked him.
Sometimes Kenny would stop them on the street, and
they would inspect the lining of Kenny's parka.
"This is what keeps me warm," he would say.
The girls liked that.
Kenny didn't have a car.
"Geez," he'd say, "do I ever like buses. You get to
meet so many people."
Kenny liked the bus.
Brautigan's Death
a blue scarf tied smartly around your neck.
I'd expect you to stand by yourself, on the air, under
the branches, under the black, soundless sun.
Instead, you pointed a shotgun at your own head.
Your arms must have been very
long.
The Taste Of Manna
There we were for 40 years
sand in our hair and stuck to our legs.
But we lived on manna,
magic popcorn from the sky.
And everyone danced
because it tasted like anything they wanted it to
To most, it tasted like steak & eggs.
To Morty, I think it tasted like
a hot brisket sandwich and a Diet Coke.
But it only made me sad.
For 40 years it tasted like
your smooth Egyptian tongue.
"IMMACULATE!"
The virgin, Mary, screams-
she has just found out that
she will bear the son of God.
Like and groupie she jumps up and
down, screaming, loving the
thought of fucking, or, rather
being fucked by her idol.
But she is too stupid, too star struck to file
a paternity suit. Can you imagine
the potential press coverage?
Barenaked Rap
Words by Steven Page & Jeff Pounsett, 1988
Yo, go with the flow
My rhymes grow just like an afro
Do you wanna go? No!
You don't have no
Funny looking girls hanging off your arm
I grew up on a farm. Really?
Ya, I'm a farmboy, homeboy
Yo yo yo homeboy yo!
So give me pickles, cheese,
Chips, prepared mustard
Give me a grilled one baby and I'll bust ya
Up with flavor down with leather
C'mon tyler lets get it together...
Would you pull me, just like a stop on an organ
I'm Harry Morgan
Taller than Danny Devito
Ah neato
I gotta see you in a Speedo
Check my libido at the door if you please
Give me a Kleenex, I think I'm gonna sneeze