15. COMPLAINT

COMPLAINT

This swan dive, gentlemen, will be the last.

Between us, these sorts of theatrics are over.

-

'You have never given us a chance, never

listened to our words nor even let us

speak. You enter the forum as if you're

in charge. The crowd cheers, yes,

but they would cheer for anyone.'

-

...It's always like this : at the 12th St. Bookstore,

the 2nd Ave. Deli, McSorley's or even at

The White Horse. Everywhere, 

people are lined up for a sighting.

-

I often chuckle to myself.

Your hammer is held high,

above your head; like something

to be feared, something about to strike.

14. MEMORY

MEMORY

A father's bathmat,

a set of beliefs

once forced to be

stood upon, now

grown slippery,

slippery with

doubt and regret.

The disbelief of any

flowers in bloom.

The wide-gape of

womanhood

blooming,

replaced in new light

by the endless array of choices

as represented by

shoe after shoe after shoe :

engathered like dust

in your own

personal

ensaving

bag.

13. PORNOGRAPHIC GOD

PORNOGRAPHIC GOD

I

am the

God of

your

belly

spilling

milk white

seed allover

your skin -

one slick

elongated

pull-out

at the

very

last

moment

in

time.

12. POETRY NOTEBOOK

POETRY NOTEBOOK

I've got my poetry notebook

in my hand, holding it open towards

the sky as I sit in bright sunlight

at Madison Square. The statue of

Admiral Farragut is over my shoulder.

-

He knows nothing, of course, of any of this  -  

like some timeless dead man anywhere, now

he is just a statue. No whistles, no bells.

A few birds whiz by; their swoop

defines my day-dreamed arc.

-

The only words I come up with are vacuous:

'I'm leaving the city at 9:45, got the hots for

you baby, it keeps me alive.'

11. DR. SIMULACRUM

DR. SIMULACRUM

Hate me like the weather,

for I am changeable skies

and would just as soon 

depart as just as soon arrive.

Pull me like a daisy,

breaking what you will,

tearing scabs and flowers

from my skin.

This awful book is

open to you;

read it at your own 

frightful risk.

I have my scalpels

and my knives,

my stirrups and my

clasps. Everything

you'd want

is open for

you, and

waiting.

10. LA CALAVERA

LA CALAVERA

Sepia brown was a tint.

Photographs and drawings,

the thinly-etched lines of crazed

yet very deliberate artists, yes, 

everything made in this fashion

is now long gone.

-

Tarot Cards are worth nothing without

their backings. Colored like flame, they

overdue in earnestness what they also

present in theory. Various artists have

made various famed versions.

-

Bosch cards are highly valued.

Some seemingly maddening, magical

quality, an intensity of illustration,

a richness of outlook, give them value.

-

Beware of boys who once collected

baseball cards  -  trading then in, now,

for fortune-tellers and fame; all the

future on a glossy card's worth.

9. THE CANDID MAN FEELS A SICKNESS COMING ON

THE CANDID MAN FEELS 

A SICKNESS COMING ON

The pitchfork was left, I swear, under the shed;

horsehair, a coil of rope, the old bucket, leaking.

-

I had already told that guy from the church I didn't want

to hear anything from him; no advice, no strictures,

no recipes for his disgusting food.

-

One person at a time has always been more

than enough for me; thoughtless to think differently.

Believe me, I could never change my mind. 

We wake up to a Science all our own, and it's

everyday the same  -  no 'Sunday' will make

any difference at all. And no surprise there.

-

If it would ever rain, I'd get to test this roof;

we fixed it last month, and it hasn't rained since.

Not that anyone would notice, but it looks pretty

good from the road. Tar-paper patching, a layer of

metal, and a few new shingles  -  everything good

as it is. What need have I of anything new?

-

What need have I of anything at all?

8. THE DOWAGER AT 45

THE DOWAGER AT 55

(1171 East 91st street)

I was told you lived here, and it has proven correct:

here you are, after all, amidst flowers and huge,

potted plants. The doorman, whom I've just met,

says his name is 'Henri' - pronounced somehow

with a sneer and no 'H', and slightly clenched

teeth, all while mysteriously moving the fingers

of one hand. Whatever that means, I think I

got the message.

-

You are on the fourth floor of a very nice building.

'Elsa Beth Dolmier' is the name on your letterbox,

as well as the name on the bottom of your letters  -  which

is as I know you. It is a strange yet very precise name, as I

see it, and reeking of money. I'm sure Henri would agree,

no, Ms Dolmier?

-

All I have of you is a few notes sent, and a voice on

the phone from the one time you called me  -  unsolicited  -

to talk, find out more about me, hear my voice, learn who I

was  -  or, as you put it  -  who I could be. After that time,

I knew there'd be trouble. You asked why I never travel,

saying you spend much time overseas. Europe is your

preference : the streets of Paris, the back alleys of 

Prague, the smaller prefects of rural France.

-

Nothing I can do about that, I'd thought.

Listening to you, I felt as if I was being interviewed

by a banker  -  huge clump of cash in one hand, a big

'No' in the other. I sat down to nothing, and left with

much less. You offered me tea in a porcelain cage.

7. RUM

RUM

Well I'll be damned,

I can't get it across, 

this crazy feeling

between love and loss.

No hands to hold,

no heart to squeeze,

just this fucking need

and this constant tease.

Help me momma

make it through...

these old men on rum

will just have to do.

-

Can't get it lost,

no matter what I do,

wherever I go,

this ghost is you.

-

These old men on rum

will have to do.

6. HOLY FRIEND

HOLY FRIEND

My holy friend from Gehenna

comes back from somewhere.

He wears a garland of white

petals around his neck.

-

It is very early on a

dark blue morning.

-

I try to look past him

to see from where he has 

come. I cannot see anything.

-

The distance is like the

foreground to us  -  

many things of a material 

nature, clamoring for attention.

5. UNION SQUARE

UNION SQUARE

I sat in Union Square

watching college kids

strum their guitars.

-

They all wanted to

play for peace  -

no war, no violence,

their philosophy was pure:

-

There is no ending of

any quandary...therefore,

let me play.

-

I will wear my tattered jeans

and tattoos and lip jewelry

with the same pride your parents

had in Lawrence Welk, Ed Sullivan

-

or the Beatles. I don't know why

but I will. Certain worlds collide.

Others simply avoid each other.

4. PHONE

PHONE

A massive collision of cultures

could kill us. 'You people are

so stupid,' the girl was barking

into a phone, 'holding a contract

to the end of the fiscal year

is a really shitty thing to do.'

-

She walked along the street

from curb to curb cradling

the tiny phony to her ear

and mouth. Way too small

to make sense, both her

and the message seemed

monstrous by comparison.

-

'You tell Fred from me

I think he's being a real 

jerk and a loser. This was

supposed to be my moment.'

3. 14th

14th

Michael Staber brought someone home;

a big, muscular guy from 14th.

He loved the sex up his ass -

two men hurtling towards

darkness together.

2. ART SHOW

ART SHOW

The unflinching museum guard

stares straight ahead as if

fixated upon another creation.

Where his eyes end, perhaps

his mind begins.

-

If there was another entrance,

through Breughel, perhaps, I'd

push him there. It would do me

good to see him in terror; disembodied,

a flaccid arm on a pumpkin head.

It has its own seasonm after all.

-

Instead, he remains  -  stiff and aloof,

as framed and hard-varnished as any one

of these pathetic and very old paintings.

-

I read the surface cracks as I would some

ancient, chiseled language. A tired hieroglyph, 

a cuneiform from Hell; the sign language

os a mute and weary God.

1. MAGIC

MAGIC

The magic of your phobia is funny.

Five guys sitting on the steps.

The lone old man,

almost a bum,

is reading a

cast-off

computer

magazine.

-

He touches the pages

as if they were from

Mars. Knowing his

instant messaging is

quite secure,

-

he holds out his

hand for quarters.

'Spare any change?',

he says.