Philip Kobylarz – Six Poems



a game that requires, firstly, a total absence of fashion. After that, muscles long forgotten and hidden in the body are called on for the destruction of bone pyramids. Large scale boredom in action that can only lead to two routes: drunkenness or french fries.

old tireS

really, more pertinent than the invention of the wheel. Can be used as anything from boat bumpers to abandoned-field plant pots to shoe bottoms to football practice field hopscotches. Almost always better  employed while not in the service of automobiles.

the kisS

as many types of these as there are words for snow in Eskimo. A very tasty way of exchanging the Spirit, in breath and touch, as the Cathars meant. As sexual manuals preach, they are less frequent as matters turn more serious; as preludes a more serious matter couldn’t be happened upon. Welcomed when given between friends, as experienced in foreign countries, but despised when required from family. The jury is still out on in the case of ones stolen. Are best when moderately wet and accompanied with a hug


outside of the realm of marketing there are only two kinds: red and champagne (white being a bastardization). Wine is liquid soul-transformation (not to be mixed-up with transmogrification). It is the sacramental blood extracted from meals. In its bleached form it compliments seafood as if the decadence of raw or barely cooked fish weren’t enough.


a less intelligent but more amusing compliment to the introspective nature of cats. As dishwashers, or plate, pan, and bowl cleaners nothing equals their enthusiasm. As solicitors of food and attention, they are the reigning virtuosos.


(sounds better in Italian). The best drug on the market because it can’t be bought, or sold, in its purest form. Best when felt far from its source although escape from its birthplace is as impossible as bathing away a birthmark. In its sweetest form, like that of liquor cakes, it’s as desireful as orgasm or as comforting as death.


Author’s Statement on Beauty

Beauty is that which we adore in ourselves but find it somewhat difficult to find in others.


Philip Kobylarz is a teacher and writer of fiction, poetry, book reviews, and essays. He has worked as a journalist and film critic for newspapers in Memphis, TN. His work appears in such publications as Paris Review, Poetry, and The Best American Poetry series. He is the author of a book of poems concerning life in the south of France and a short story collection titled Now Leaving Nowheresville. His creative non-fiction collection All Roads Lead from Massilia is forthcoming from Everytime Press of Adelaide, Australia and he has a collection forthcoming from Brooklyn’s Lit Riot Press titled A Miscellany of Diverse Things. More at: