noho
MARK SUNSHINE
The secrecy - I guess that faded over time, like a gold rush.
And all the wrong people would find out about rights.
Looking at the dark window, life flows by,
circling around the bleeding moment.
Convection: the winds that blew the flames, run and mix it,
swirling violently behind the back of the neck,
running into the firewall of circumstance;
they warm me to the facts,
providing an injection of recall before the cauterization.
Shaliya, your strong visions of a rock solid father -
your early morning screaming....
Comfort, who do you awaken now with tinfuls of oxtails and rice -
where is the glorious hotplate?
And now Chuck - where are your paintings, where are all those
works?
I used to wonder what the wasp could possibly feel
when returning to the spot where the thriving nest once was
and upon the landing, in the silent hallway, staring at the
sticker on
the door.
I could imagine.
--------------------
Shootin' Hoops
Under the hot Florida sun they play,
jumping and leaping.
The basket is lowered for Angelo,
his mouth twisted and the scar on his neck
the only other sign of his many brain surgeries.
The lowered basket - perhaps it's a gage -
the Big Sister - untouchable and quite underage.
She is aware of her large breasts
and her smile is playful, flirtatious and
any lustful notions she entertains are surely all
theoretical.
Max's girlfriend asleep, his glance is wayward.
( his girlfriend awake his glance is wayward )
I am not immune and it makes me wonder
if all males are secretly, sickly possessed.
SECOND QUARTER
I imagine the whole act ( naturally unnaturally ) performed
by me then by some other mannequins:
Perhaps getting her a bit drunk or drugged,
her eyes soon giving away the fact
that she knows that she has been lured into
the carnal deep end.
I walk away and smoke as Max jams the ball
as powerfully as any 5'8" man can.
HALFTIME
Soon Big Sister would sit next to me:
" Watch your elbows Ang...I'm not a guy you know! "
She would sit next to me and bend over.
She sat there digging a narrow hole with a thin stick, thrusting
the stick
in and out, up and down - quite noticably.
THIRD QUARTER
" Forget it - if a guy can't kiss heoutta here... "
" I hate those guys who don't have no ass. "
" My boyfriend is gonna get something special this weekend.
"
" D'ya see my Dad's new Harley? " she said.
FOURTH QUARTER
I asked a question to the sky above
as the bouncing ball shone brilliantly blue;
what spirits watch this playground lust;
and order that I now tell it to you?
Hi Test
Near freeflowing remnants of a
cosmic core sample exploded
I am against a wind of identities
I am reading the scratched messages on many
a family tree's inner rings
I am tasting frustrations, seeing mobile exhibits of habit
like animated shapes beneath the sheets of time's glass
before my peep show microscope;
my slide show of ridiculous, comic, unspoken formalities;
oh so special, matched only by perhaps...
a cheap, rushed, mechanized, simulated
tea ceremony in a foyer.
--------------------
Taming Tigers in the Tank
I have no lakeside, no meadow.
I have no obscure Greek references.
I have no exotic flora.
I have not the vibrant expressions of the marketplace.
I feel like a superanimated corpuscle:
I'm depleted - I'm refreshed
with hyperfrequency.
The highway at 7:00 a.m. is like a giant, Formula One
funeral procession - the sun rising up searing the spirits of the
dead.
I have not many invigorating silences.
I cast out glances, open-minded, like a rushed fisherman.
The highway drowns out everything at times,
it's river of lubricants, rubber and gas
pushing along human sediments and gears.
My frown dissipates, evaporating along with the dew
which covers most cars - like sweat on workhorses or pack mules;
I guide myself upward out of the gloom,
as skilled and careful as a master balloonist,
racing the sun and searing the spirits of the dead.
MARK SUNSHINE