Scoundrel Time

Two Poems By Patty Seyburn

Just Tell Me You’ll Think About It


Kurt Vile on the radio trending
sings “Pretty Pimpin’” and neither
his assumed name or his song refer
in any way to Kurt Weill and
“The Threepenny Opera” –

Vile’s back-up band called
“The Violators.”  He used to drive
a forklift and sounds like a decent
guy – am I the only one who cannot
get over their same name?

My lavender nail lacquer
beyond chipped – each finger offers
a small, jagged landmass; one thumb,
two peninsulas. The other
an archipelago. No man

is an atoll. No musician stands alone –
current Kurt Vile, I know that is
your real name, your talented ancestor
waits for you to pillage or sample
his tunes – mention Lotte Lenya

or Lucy Brown, a knife – maybe
your current fan-base would not
blink, but some listeners would
be pleased to posit the day a giver
of signs, small signal that we are not

deadbolted in this
moment without a key.




Dowager of Dour


loss is a big house
in a nice neighborhood
with a low mortgage
and odd windows
there’s room enough
we can all live inside it





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