The Poetry of
Michael G. Khmelnitsky

Cappelbaum dreams
there's a wolf in the village


meanwhile  at Cappelbaum's fête
whitecollar'd stewards serve

a mincer hurtle
a urchin rèmelt

a dirty limerick as parrot cleanser
notes on his morning run


brown vomit with a side of
pills  vermilion and amber

as in the corner sally b
cries out her little eyes

tray tray bong announces Cappelbaum
just as he makes his rounds


he compliments at random
(such hands were made for irons

madam  and offers morsels
a delicious lion

bites of macadam  to music
he then shouts in his septemper


and informs the guests
on his beard the flames

   a ford killed a bird
   a ford spoiled the view

   a ford killed a jew
   a ford killed a jew


shedding his links
while shooting his cuffs

Cappelbaum thinks  when
will all this sufficient

this he ponders at length
as he leaves on the lights


unlocks all the doors  dis
appears in a thicket of firn