LGeorge Dance wrote:

Will Dockery wrote:

Karma Bombs

The document falls apart
nothing left to say.

Dreams fall apart
not so easy to face.

When the one I love
is gone to stay.

Carefully try
to walk the line
then the whole thing falls apart.

Feeling wounded and lonesome
feel it
straight inside my heart.

I have been exiled
from the main place
in this town
where I had a forum.

Darkness
despair
and la de-da de-da
it's a swirling raging storm.

I woke up this morning
looked at the grounds
around the shed.

The trees with vines
that don't
let much sun in.

They told me
it was okay for a man to cry
it still feels strange.

It's obvious
he slaps you around some
I thought of you in pain.

Look out my friend
Karma's coming down.

It's got you now
threefold inside you.

Karma Bombs
they fry and flow.

It lasts for generations
you must
responsibility.

Peace
please
for the common good.

You look so good
I want to eat you.

Witty
amusing eye candy.

Smudge the sage
after a
blackberry lunch
sweet magnolia and honeysuckle.

I will personally
mail the curses
to anyone who mistreats you.

Little storm
it rained in torrents.

We ponder
the negro nude painting.

Your prime lips
trap of lust.

Tropic
look out little peace
Karma's coming.

It's got you now
threefold inside you.

Look out my friend
Karma's coming down.

It's got you now
threefold inside you.

Karma Bombs
they fry and flow.

It lasts for generations,
responsibility.

Karma Bombs
rat tap on your head.

Foam washes
mermaids to shore.

-Will Dockery

Note:
My "Karma Bombs" poem was written in 1998 (I can remember the day I
wrote it, sitting at a table outside Books-A-Million on Macon Road,
that's interesting to me, and I think will fuel more poetry soon, stay
tuned), published in hardcopy both in Playgrounds Magazine and in a
chapbook that year, and posted here with a time stamp of December 16th
2002:

https://groups.google.com/d/msg/alt.arts.poetry.comments/IfYQvyM29VM/lJuuvLMr0PIJ

What can I say about "Karma Bombs"? For one thing, it's hands-down your
most famous poem. I'll bet that hundreds of people have heard of "Karma
Bombs", thanks to Piggy Ross et al. But how many have read it?

For another, it fits perfectly in this chapter of the book: it's showing
the speaker hitting rock bottom. It's bleak, depressing, reminding me of
the Hollow Men although nothing like it, and of the crazy, later Cantos.
This is the speaker entering hell, or starting to go mad, or however you
want to call it.

Well put.

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