person J.D. Nelson, seven poems

J. D. Nelson (b. 1971) experiments with words in his subterranean laboratory. Visit for more information and links to his published poems. Nelson lives in Colorado.


insect pie

with those cobra eyes

              a clone is found foraging in the forest

the spotted hand is the winner today

the continuation of the world in the next panel

grow a leg like a cricket right out of your back


this blueberry scone is the pardon of the night horse

tyson handfish was a ghoul
the library crossed him and he went into a hole

finger sauce the alpha green
darkness is the sun not bleeding tonight

like a planet for now
would you like to bring back saturn

we eat the sun burgers
alphabetize that glass


eating a steak with larry the muppet

a frightened fool in the gardening section
a deeming scarecrow

the gallant cloud
but what is a rainbow of earthworms

the caroling hand to do the business
this could be the hamming schultz

to steal a wrench is a missing murphy
that boring hand is not mine


morning is a clown

a world of lips
              jungle rug

the rice bomb of beautiful you
to eat a hair of the world

a chirp in the sawdust
the video of a bugg

what about the younger yes nebula

              visionary toast

the wild boar needs a seat
the growl of the tree


cleo minestrone and the dollar clouds

a green cloud about bread was a burger of the mind
chainsaw earth has a number of flowery ticks

cooking a batch of the sleepers
changing a head with the lemon scent

becoming a panther to make it soda pop
the cloaking hand is a variant of x

light was a paper brain to use the words that way
why is the paper a wasp’s necessity


the collapse of the fingerless glove restaurant

                                          (using the lantern)
crunching the merit of folk storms

starting with the droid capo the dental yes
to link the red sea to the planet of mars

to tape the oreo blankets with maude
              this method of tree teaching

pair up with the hulk and make a lard ornament
the leopard meat was a cool machine


to win a reptile at the circus

I was working on the earth that day
it was a world of work to do the large something

for knowing a cloud
              happening pants

a free lemon drop was a corner of the madge
              in the rooster forest
                              an icicle tree

smeet was past normal
that cop of the nine eyes


person J.D. Nelson, seven poems

J. D. Nelson (b. 1971) experiments with words in his subterranean laboratory. Visit for more information and links to his published poems. Nelson lives in Colorado.


the cat who ate rice balls

little burd in my head
for the good ghost to say so

little yikes yet
sleece asound

your ancient grains
three hundred french fries

worship the wet sun
earth is a benefactor

were you a cloud kid
oh flat hammlers


the hear-me horn on the roof of my TRUCK

why doesn’t the controller have the sum whit barn
the coy knock surge to prevent the last darrow

accumulation of zap
earth looks opposite to me

using the sun for a thief shoop
flying humans to the sea


standing in lime

tying the world to the moon
wow a new antler has sprouted

ok by now you must be hungry
we have some bees for you

oh we were real insects then
potatoes and pineapple

the water is a laugh when guffing
the nothing we need


wolf shucks

go thru the wall with a bunch of money
we can buy anything

cool day by the lake ok
there was a mirror of the sky too
but no one said anything

it’s all a new game

wolf shark makes spaghetti
and says thank you for everything
and that meal was the best ever using evoo

wear some pants too


we found the nest and the babies were hungry

in the room in the castle where my painting hangs

I entered the contest with the frog in my pocket
let’s get those diamond frogs from the sand

there is a sun over there, I said,
and we walked over to it
and it was small and blue
and we cheered it up

earth was in on it


the name of the sunlight to be born this day

while the earth cools
and frets about the moon
oh is it going to fall

in the land of the pickles
a vehicle of martian exuberance

growling at the stars
something like the lake face

I have seen everything on the old tv
and the new one, too
there is nothing on there for the brain at this hour


earth is set in its ways

window claus the freehold clam
set up to fool some yetterbies

when you become the worm
I would like to see if you don’t mind

when we look at the sky
and see the stars in their stations

happening in the head
I have these headlines

there is a frightened rat in glass shoes
reach the tv bleach for alpaca sweet