The Basement of Desire
by Bill Yarrow
sooner or later you realize
that all the leftover wood you’ve been saving
all the scraps of PVC pipe in the utility closet
all the plumbing nuggets you’ve squirreled away
all the used sandpaper
loose roofing nails
copper battery caps
coils of solder
cylinders of tin
carafes of glue
tubs of bulbs
rusted caulk guns
sleeves of galvanized washers
cans of mineral spirits
screen door hardware
drawers of squeeze nozzles
the whole haberdashery of plastic pieces sheathing connectors and containers
is just a metaphor
of shifting meaning
and your mind.
by Bill Yarrow
I bought some charlatan art
and hung it on the wall.
My friends applauded my savvy,
my relatives my excellent taste.
Then I won an iPad from the credit union;
The next day at work I got a merit raise.
Well, I bought another charlatan piece.
That night, my wife re-decided to love me.
Soon after, all my kids moved back to Illinois.
What is this magic in chicanery?
When the Blackhawks made the playoffs
and my lupus disappeared, I went back to the charlatan well.
Lo and behold, Pluto was renamed a planet,
Tolstoy was awarded a posthumous Nobel.
Bill Yarrow is the author of Pointed Sentences (BlazeVOX 2012). He has been published in many print and online journals including Thrush, DIAGRAM, Contrary, and RHINO. He is a Professor of English at Joliet Junior College where he teaches creative writing, Shakespeare, and film. Two chapbooks (Twenty from MadHat Press and Incompetent Translations and Inept Haiku from Červená Barva Press) are forthcoming in 2013.