The HyperTexts

Steven Kent

Steven Kent is the poetic alter ego of writer and musician Kent Burnside (www.kentburnside.com). His work appears in 251, Asses of Parnassus, The Dirigible Balloon, Light, Lighten Up Online, The Lyric, New Verse News, The Orchards Poetry Journal, Philosophy Now, The Pierian, Pulsebeat Poetry Journal, The Road Not Taken: A Journal of Formal Poetry, Snakeskin, Well Met, and Well Read. His collections I Tried (And Other Poems, Too) and Home at Last are published by Kelsay Books.



Dirty Money

A Playboy, fifteen bucks today,
Was fifty cents in '53;
Inflation really ran away
With prices of pornography.
Collectors feel this pain the deepest —
The first smut really is the cheapest.



No Talk, All Action

"My wife can speak no English, I no Welsh."
(I Henry IV, III.i.199)

Lady, Lady, lay thee down;
Let me take thy dressing gown.
One look at you and my, my standard raises!
Prithee, love, receive a kiss,
Prelude to erotic bliss —
At last my humble tongue may hymn thy praises.

Cunning linguist, I, indeed,
Touching on thy every need.
No careless comment e'er shall come between us:
Naught may now disturb our peace,
Only joy and sweet release
Await in wordless concord, O my Venus!



Call My Agent

My romcom, Ski With Mom
And Chomsky: hit or bomb?
He'd talk on foreign policy,
She'd squawk, "So borin', Doll, you see?"
The structure's deep (and slightly cheap) —
A sleeper? Keep? An Oscar sweep?

The HyperTexts