Yrik-Max Valentonis wanders through the urban landscape seeking out fairy circles. He makes puppets so other people can see his imaginary friends. He steals apples to justify his philosophy. He is Baba Yaga's favorite grandson.
His comics and writings have appeared in magazines, e-zines, and the anthologies: “Sinbad and the Winds of Destiny”, "Zombie Nation: St. Pete", "Animal Blessings", and "Divided Again".
He has M.F.A. in Poetry and Prose from the Naropa University and a B.A. in English and American Literature from the University of South Florida.
Lost in Urban Landscaping #32
Her head pushed down by the riverbank
She would have drowned if not for the drought
He choked on his own shadow
Coughing forth small darkness
French summer days
Cooking us to perfection
Waking up early to sweep monsters out of the room
The toys have resorted to cannibalism
***
Lost in Urban Landscaping #43
How to read this poem
Touch the paper with your hand
Feel the texture of the page
Turn a few pages back and forth
Sniff the binding
Rub the page against your cheek
Taste the ink it is printed with
Rip the page out
Crumple it up
Throw it against the wall
And remember that
Everything is transitory
Then
Enjoy the moment
Lost in Urban Landscaping # 28: Magnetic Poetry Kit
Don’t ever give a magnetic poetry kit to a poet.
Do you know how frustrating it is to attempt to limit yourself to
one hundred and fifty available words.
I sat on the floor of my kitchen for hours.
Shuffling, rearranging, reading, scanning for that word in my head that I couldn’t find in front of me.
I never did manage to eat that night.
The first poem went well. It was a short I Love You thing,
but still even poets want dinner.
A few more poems started---
each word took longer to grasp than
my one finger typing on the manual with sticky keys.
I can at least eat with my other hand.
I broke down. I used one of the “blanks”
provided for such emergencies. There was guilt
but at least the poem was complete. A quick trip to the store,
the last article’s royalties went right into expansion sets.
Three of us in line, pale from our own fluorescent cells.
There I was with other 90’s junkies:
a college student holding a pack of Magic the Gathering Cards,
and a ten year old truant, nervously clutching Pokemon.
How many words do I need?
Was this obsession because I felt the pressure of limits or are more words necessary.
It’s only my refrigerator.
That’s a word I need, refrigerator,
it must be in the cooking and food expansion set.
Even still it happened again. I broke down and used a “blank”.
Doesn’t every poet say EXTRAPOLATE at least once?
The small poems were merging, they transformed from
individual pieces into an Epic.
Not by theme nor design, but room.
There is only so much room on the refrigerator before they combine by proximity.
Again the need to use a “blank” overwhelmed me, but
the guilt of restraint was gone.
The dishwasher I discovered is magnetic
and since I haven’t eaten, there are no dirty dishes.
The microwave and the stove also turned out to be magnetic.
And since I was already using a pencil to write on the “blanks”, it was easy enough
to go across the counter tops and cabinets, connecting the entire kitchen.
