Saving Cinderella

  
  
  
                poems to go home with
    
    
  

  

[1 of 365]

  The wolves have my heart.  
  They are grinning and slavering in secret
    woods.
  Long vial smiles
            where a wind
    of nothing
  invades the breath
  
  Long eyes, yellow and forlorn.
  The pack is musky and quiet
  under frozen pine boughs...
  
  Long nights have come
  ranging to these woods.
  Pine needles stick to my shirt-front.
  
  I do not now where I
  or the woods are. I only
  feel this, and these eyes
  
                                          restless yellow.
  Long breaths, deathless strength,
  and I know that out there
  in a dark I do not comprehend,
  a heat, a black, a panting mask,
  something deathless
  
                                          has my heart.
  
  
  

[2 of 365]

  No poem today
            A miscellany of stray days
  
  The folded gold of hay straw;
  Flies stumble and buzz-
           already
    I look to my lapsed vow--
           I
    can't hold out till summer
  
  My remade ardor
  and ingenuity of foolish failure,
  a remade grave
                    dead
    again.
  My lover's face worn like a wet mask
  drowning my own original pig one.
  
  I see it moving between us,
             pink
    pig -- stuck fucking
  held at either end
             wanted
    or goaded
  trying to spit and wither
  
  
  
  

[3 of 365]

  Not ÒchipperÓ enough. Yes,
  That's what I actually said to myself
  --dawn almost in the window--
                                and nodded, right I was,
  Wolfenstein fluffily chucked
                                under my chin,
  safe in his mild sheepskin.
  
  I am sounding almost sane on the third day
  away from grace, third day of my resurrection.
  Soon I shall be as sane as Death,
  my life unfluffily reduced
  to a single, passionless hue.
  
  Tawny port and Wendy Wasserstein:
                      Full of prejudice and still not ÒbannedÓ
  by forces of political correctness
  -the only gentile with a job a Ònazi.Ó
  Sisters bonding in a successful suburb
                      in a lesbian ideal of bitterness
  , all that the world took away.
  
  All that the world took away.
                                          Your endless voice
  and slips into chaos;
  resourceful maudlin muppet
  turning Òself-helpÓ books into manuals of
    torture.
  And proud you were, you always were.
  Proud beyond beliefÉ.
  
                                          Tawny skin
  warm with self-reflective fires,
                                          inner
    infernos
  and a bird-voice harsh as a tape-recorder
  ÒWhy why why why why.Ó
  
  
  

[4 of 365]

  There are no heroic elements in the story.
  The jutting chin's followed
  by a mid-age jowl's folly
                          jellied as cranberry sauce.
  
                 a
    pig is a animal with a wide dirty face
    
    
                 his manners are a big disgrace
  
  Again today the shower and razor.
  My razor made hers in four slashes,
                 horizontal symmetry /
                 then draggling horror
  Banners brighten at the Walmart
  , the highway higher decibels than melee--
  Old war in a new uniform.
  
  She moved onto me backwards, crabwise
  ÒI must have been fucking you in my dreams for
    years.Ó
  Cartilage and hard-ons, cooing mucus,
  the eye a soft pure pore or labial well
                 full of sweet consciousness brought
                 to ecstasy and emptiness both
  
                 would you rather swing on a star
    
    
                 carry moonbeams home in a jar
  
  Stuck in my horseshoe of Tuesdays,
  repetitiously different, equivalent zeros
  without the bobbed banner of her hair,
  --the quiet legacy of a moment's dare
                 injuring grace and then gone
                 heroless into the none
  
                 or would you rather
    
    
                 be a mule
  
  
  
  

[5 of 365]

  My lips and prick soft as butter--
  Yesterday, floored at work and lulled
                    into
    lonely jonesing
  for jeremiad joys-- you called:
  a dark icon on a static snowfield.
  
  ÒHappy vulva and penis day.Ó
  ÒHappy v and p day to you, too.Ó
  ÒOh, c'mon, you can say it.Ó
  ÒIt's crowded in the office today, baby.Ó
  ÒThey've all heard those words before. C'monÉ.
  Say it with me: Happy vulva and penis day!Ó
  
  Conversation jelly beans for v and p day
  from two shy nieces, a yellow one
  I misread, getting Anger from ÒAngeÓ
  instead of angel--how crazy, how profound.
  How wasted is this empty
  principate of my oligarchic heart.
  
  Miserly bean-counter: disreputable
    misrepresented feelings:
  ÒGive me back my penis.Ó
  
                    Softe as the jellie-bellie
                    jelly
    beans belly
  is, now, in my mouth
  or as was, then, your mouth
  
  rounding on love / evolve
  before we ended on evil / valve
  or whatever syllables
  I would not say
           and
    you angered after
           opaque
    angel
  
  phone / phony
  
  
  
  

[6 of 365]

  I take my words from reiki and Rimbaud.
  
  
  
  

[7 of 365]

  I sit in my Shakespeare slippers,
  witless muppethead without a mouth,
  bearded fleshtone globes blithe and blind,
  typing you this poem.
  
  What a wreck Sunday is; movies
  are all I can handle, sightless sights
  and my own silence, silent sitting
  vegetating meditations
  
  Last night the wings of the angel-of-death
  had brish-brushed against the cheap jeep
  ; marks from the harping truck
  were left light as moth's dust-
  
  the sound was an ocean of sound
  roar-rounding our heads round-round
  as loud as you can swallow.
  I saw your face, holographed on the black
    windshield
  ,
  fixated on that.
  
  
  

[8 of 365]

  Light showeth the dust on my light glasses,
  no-weight and all the things seen clearer
  save for the dust I notice not
  until the motes are golden.
  
  Flecks of filtered dust,
  flecks of light, flecks of starlings
  I thought but dust--
  flicker onward and away from me,
  the windows full of them, if I
  had but noticed.
                             How
    golden.
  
  I see you snuck in while I was sleeping.
  
  Again.
  
  ÒI put a message on your machine.
  Why don't you answer the phone?Ó
  How golden, golden.
  
  
  

[9 of 365]

  My dream has left me at my desk;
  nothing to report from the underworld
  to the uberland of coffee and psychotherapy.
  
  ÒUndressing the American Male,Ó
  a help-me help-you book
  purples the shelf, hefty
  scrotum knowledge from the library.
  I know less than my Dad
                    about
    dirty things,
                    boweavil
    feelings,
  
  the knot under a god-man's cassock
  or where a woman's bones
  home-in on the uptight uterus.
                    Less
    and less,
                             less
    and less
  
  Nothing comes with me when I come.
  
  
  

[10 of 365]

  The Ism Schism
    
    
  
    
    
                    i
    ain't got no-boooody
    
    
                    sad
    n lonely, sadnlonely
    
    
  
  I'm ready to listen, Cerebus, come what
  devildogs there may, what forks in what roads
  or slaloms to lingamless love
  
  You popped your hat off like unfolding a map.
  
  Ingrid Bergman on the screen,
  miniature, meticulous
  then woogly from her soul-kiss, undone
  as yet, no lips, no crossings, no kiss,
  but still the passion as in a ministry--
  glossy looks and self-doubt
  
  but none, none about the passion.
  To feel's to live, that alone.
  
                    pleasure
    passes; joy remains--
    
    
                    what's
    gained in giving gives again
  
  You talked like a tiger who smelt my fear,
  licking your chops
  with questions so granular
  they had escaped my own notice:
  -Òwhat's behind your not giving a ring?-
  
                    look
    not without, but gaze
    
    
                    again
    withinÉ.Ó
  
  
  
  
  

[11 of 365]

  Here, There, Underwear
    
    
  
  I keep seeing your underwear everywhere
  Peeking from beneath my bonnie bed
  or lonely among my mannish stock of black
  BVDs--
  a few forlorn pastels leftover from some love
    vacation
  some sultry summer thing
  some once ago
           --agone
    aghast against
           --agone
    again
  
  
  
  
  

[12 of 365]

  Gritty lamppost, dim world.
  Here I am in Avernus,
  no sound of birdflight
  no sight beyond crass gray,
                    dim,
    flightless
  
  Kicked at my bedside, rocks at my windows--
  no hope, no golden goal of reason
  --human chimera in woman--
  in you. Your voice a subtle
  harrassment, elongating a night already
  too long and hard with dicktease.
  
  Spiffy finish on this lamp at my bedside,
  an eagle holding a blank bulb in his mouth
  while I hold you in mine.
  When you go out
  and the eagle gasps, I am left
  
  lightless in the rain of this day.
  
  
  

[13 of 365]

  Green raindrops under your hand;
  Banked basement windows are your eyes;
  Purple sneakers are just your kind.
  
  Peacock lamp in blackness floresced,
  Feather hood on a hot long gold cock-rod,
  The bold brass base heavy as a lion's paw.
  
  But now the world has run to ruin;
  My room with paled pastels is drawn
  And done-- done are all of my eyes.
  
  The map of the world is tepid, tea-stained;
  Brazil a diamond blot as sallow
  As all I recall of what was pain.
  
  So soon you have faded, so remote so fast-
  The trees are telling me their secret at last:
  Grow to the sky or remain as grass.
  
  
  
  

[14 of 365]

  Spoons and forks and knives-
  oh my!
  Olympic-sized cupcakes
  É
  ÒIt was called Willis, a small black dog
  it had a high mild bark
  almost like a birdÓ
  .
  The Bill of Rights on the kitchen wall--
  more still to mourn
  than I may dare recall
  .
  No Jane in the rain, among other
  children's toys of mortal color
  .
  Hecate, Hecate, Hecate,
  three times called
  ,
  be my honey-calmer
  'ere I hit the wall
  .
  Let Mrs. Chen from the Hallelujah dry cleaners
  steam my unpressed soul
  ;
  Hecate, Hecate, Hecate,
  nothing is my all
  .
  When I get back, I'll try my experiment
  dry and wet
  :
  Full of the here and now
  --and yet
  É
  
  
  
  
  

[15 0f 365]

  Flammable Bananas
    
    
  
  do you like circles?
  between thumb and forefinger
  
  the ring and the braid of gold
  the ring a ruby emblem from great loins gone
  
  Weezie cat's head green-eyed
  at the swinging charm
  
  electric fires in the waterbowl
  the chaise gone over to wildflowers
  
  and mole is mellow
  and the zebra candle burns
  
  hollow through as though
  the tower had gone terrored down
  
  and you will not love this poem
  for it is not enough a one
  
  about enough of you
  
  
  

[16 of 365]

  I'm the boss of me,
  not some arm punching my arm
  while I drive, while I live.
  
  Not some infinitely lovely face
  locked in the nowhere of psychosis
  while I make a right onto Riven.
  
  Split
  
            between our
    love and our stupidity,
            between
    insight and inanity
  
  How long must we loiter in the parkinglot
  before we takeoff from our little blue dot
  into all the skies we've not
  yet got?
  
  How much time until our skulls are left on
    sticks
  yattering and clackering
  in bony argument?
  How many wicked ticks do we get
  before we come
  to what we are not yet?
  
  Your army-issue parka
  rubs my leathered arm
  where I am sore. Sure,
  it hurts, I say
  
  but you already knew that.
  
  
  

[17 of 365]

  Bad poems
           cramp my joints,
  clutter my palms
           like longwinded
    tattoos.
  
  My hands ache with the
  weight of them--
  --surely your ears are shot
  with the high, unoiled
  whine of their wailing.
           Surely
  
  some tea and honey
  must come from our twinning tempest.
           Surely
  
  some ghost of unearthly rapture
  must assemble itself
           from our smokes
    and inanities
           Surely
  
           Surely
  
  
  
  

[18 of 365]

  I think that you should let me read your
    journals--
  All the fantasies, all the fictions,
  false reports of a brain in pain.
  
  Five hours skewered on a lovely day--
  our boneless bodies left as wreckage
  outside the harmless, blameless
  park that stripped
  our sanity to shreds.
  
  Remember sitting on that golden wall
  crumbling to ducks and geese,
  the winter water
  as molten as our knowing?
  Sunset came upon us as a crime,
  unbelievably, changing everything.
  
  
  
  
  

[19 of 365]

  Corporations forget they need us.
  But no mother forgets she breeds us.
  Why do they want a gain without a loss?
  Stockmarkets cannot shock us
  if we do not stock them--
  Can't we have a life and not a job....
  
  --I dream of singing you
  this stupidest of songs
                       Unsure
  
  of your reaction--the if
  of a tiff,
                    the whiff
  of sulfur sifts
  
  up from our pile of drifts.
  Its our loss.
  
  
  
  

[20 of 365]

  Oh, wow,
  It's snow-
  Ing now.
  
  
  
  
  

[21 of 365]

  I lay in the dark and hold my chin
  while a clock bongs
                                  soft and thin,
  --my jaw's still jointless, unjoined
                  the torqued hinge
  raindrops run to rivers on these cheeks
  finessed back
  to drops at the chintip.
  
  One hair on your chin begins a mystery,
  your shoulders fine as a horse's
  hold up a questionmark
                                              --jutting, juryless.
  There is no robed jurist to which to appeal
  ; not for knowledge (I am no purist)
  ; but simply for judgment
                                              for some cease,
  some surcease in this uneasiness,
  this liquidy agony.
  
  Tears have graced my agony
  ; and now every atheistic poem
  ends like a prayer.
  
  
  
  

[22 of 365]

  Anglo angels move in their
       mysterious helicopters
  as if Autumn still had us
  and not February's tenebra marchea
    
    
  tolling toward the ides of March
  the birds come back like
       black darts of dreams
  w/ the eyes pecked out
                 little childlike screams
  until even our God has
       rewound to a sound
  marchia tenebra
    
    
  
  The reeds have rattled
       their songs to mumbles
  - on this small pond our faces
  once leaned into skies
       distorted by bubbles and fins
  É.
  
  You break open for me your body,
  sallow and loaded
  the way uneasy ice breaks open
  to accommodate a skater,
       skillessly, coldly, fatally
  
  
  

[23 of 365]

  Miro My Hero
  
  Persons parlayed to pictographs
  a startlement of arms or eyes
           asterisked
    to stars.
  
  How narrow a sky becomes
       honed to a word
  the gate is straight, narrow the way
  nor can a rich man make it
  ungreased by sincerity.
  
  Eye of a needle,
           asterisk
    of a painter:
  all expression beyond signification
  miniaturized into the materials:
  the clump of paint
  or texture of an X
           suavity of a drop
                               drop
                               drop
  
  How one we are in words!
  
  
  
  

[24 of 365]

           The
    bland big breasts of a lover
  through tornadoes of simplifying
  transmute to the goosing of a line,
  the thickening of a wick
                                        set burning
  on a great green field.
  
  Yellow arrows of stars, of eyes
  race thickly through the green...
  
  The referent's a pretense
          a fence
  to define artists and audience, lover, loved.
  
  How easily a letter can keep us
  ,
  keep us apart.
  
  
  
  

[25 of 365]

  constellation:
  crude cruddy hand on a star
  
  
  

[26 of 365]

  How easily an eye engraves a gas
  --a cosmic or more personal blast
  becomes a sumptuous setting in a wink
  --half as long as it takes to think.
  
  Or as if that were not near enough
  we ourselves are cosmic stuff
  and come assembled by some eye
  that knows how to make us die.
  
  
  

[27 of 365]

  What am I thinking of, drawing
  cat cartoons and dog toons
  thinking of little more than
  line line line
  
  No matter the mission of the mind
  all that results from the resolve is
  line line line
  
  No matter the content of any eve
  all that results of all I can see/conceive is
  line line line
  
  Division without pretense of containment,
  thought without warranty of attainment:
  line line line
  
  Two dots for eyes, ears
  in recesses of scribbles reappear
  composed of the something nothing of a
  line line line
  
  
  

[28 of 365]

  A bathroom full of colored bottles,
         colored glasses,
  semiprecious historical shapes
  full of nothing, each nothing its own
  peculiar nothing shape.
  
  A bathroom heavy with personal movement,
  close breaths, spills, groans;
  a round sound will echo
  like a tump in a kettle drum
  before our ears will abandon
  it to its nothingness.
  
  Where there is nothing does nothing
  want to be filled, want to want to?
  Or is something there already
  to make the nothing nowhere?
  
  A water closet ties us to the earth
  dumps us back to the sea
  shit by shit by shit,
  our ship of death,
                             navigating blacks
  
  hollowing a lowness for our bodies,
  those nothings of many colors -
  upended perfume bottles stinking still,
  full of light if nothing else.
                                        Nothing else.
  
  
  

[29 of 365]

  A Worship Full of Flowers
    
    
  
  with tears streaming,
  and I walked past her." --James Tate
  
  We stood together, pretending to be alone.
  I told her I needed my sleep.
  "You're always sleeping," she
    peeped.
  I don't know how very long
  I've been dreaming this
  but it can't go on much longer
  than forever.  We stood together, pretending
  to be alone.  I told her she
  needed her sleep too, not just me.
  That we should sleep together
  and stop pretending.  "I'm always
  dreaming," she confessed.  We stood together,
  pretending to be alone.  Pretending,
  with my hands folded prayer-like,
  I mimed us sleeping together.  First
  I was me, then I was she.  "Go on,"
  she said, "it's a pretty dream,"
  and moved infinitesimally closer
  to me, where I was pretending.  We stood
  together, pretending to be alone.
  I was silent; she took my hand.  To be
  alone together we stood,
  pretending.
  
  
  

[30 of 365]

  The artist had filled up a shotgun with eyes
  and blew them at the canvas.
  Sheep's eyes mostly.  Cheap.  Local
    supplier.
  Said he wanted to see what
  it was he was painting.
  After one night out late, drinking and
    thinking,
  he raced around his latest canvas,
                    baaing
    and baaing.
  
  It had been like this.
  Having gessoed another square, and another,
  for a double-barreled exhibit at the community
    college
  and the Whitney,
  he motored over to the pub, run by an ex-Brit,
  and began his thinking by cupfuls.
  A girl, a Lucy, made herself simple before
    him.
  The owner's son, Colin, proclaimed a fervent
    admiration
  and showed him some sketches.
  As the night wore on, dim and glib
  gave way to dark and darker--
           fixtures
    receded into paneling,
           swabs
    toned down to swipes.
  
  The folk at the bar, diverse, invasive
  readjusted themselves into the background.
  Only their eyes remained intruding.
  Their pupils elongated and shone,
  a subtle music struggled to be overheard.
  Round and around, dark swipes of coats,
  long beings, swags of black, of dirty white,
  circled the painter's attention.
  He was the center of a sheepy maelstrom;
  he was no shepherd, had nothing to crook,
  no farm for home, no plans.
  But still the hot bodies pressed and steamed
    nearby,
  crushingly, lovingly, crushingly,
  stamping out obscure musics
  looking up up up
                                                at him
  seeing what he was.
  
  
  

[31 of 365]

  ÒAs long as goats can fart
  and eyes can see, I'll love you,Ó
  she said, her eyes all smile and blue
    oilgleam.
  ÒDid you fart?Ó I asked, staring starry
  into her wild little goat eyes.
  ÒLet's fuck again; let's fuck all day.Ó
  And like a Chinese chicken she replied.
  ÒFluck, fluck, fluck, fluck, fluck.Ó
  My mind was all raw cock and taut cunt
  in one second, the second second
  I heard, ÒI could reawwy use some morwe
  sweep.Ó Her hard hand coddled my cock,
  and I crowed with a growing groan:
  ÒFluck, fluck, fluck, fluck, fluck.Ó
  
  
  
  

 [32 of 365]

  How sweet the tender flip-flaps of your ears;
  The long bones of your hand emerge
  as tenderly as a seal's swaled palm closes
  to its elegant rudder of fat and strength.
  Your nose homes on its boneless scents;
  your feet sweat in a mauve tidal pool:
  anxious thoughts, anxious as fish
  about to emerge into dry humps of breath.
  Your rump's two loaves, like ruminant stones,
  wait for the world's return to their round concerns,
  the centered zen attention on sex
  and nothingness-the stinky if of a
    fart.
  We grow glowingly from two things to one thing
  that makes more things, and remodels
    remorselessly
  the thingness of the thing we thing we are.
  
  
  
  

 [33 of 365]

  A Vigil
    
    
  
  All candelabra lay extinguished.
  All prayers have gone home to bed.
  All lie horizontal now, the living and the
    dead.
  
  Knees on crooked stone before a crooked cross
  Are raw as mouths talked out to wounds and
    loss,
  Are sawn clots of blood soft as moss.
  
  Here beside your steel-wheeled hospital bed
  I look at you like you were one of my dead,
  My knees as agony-open as my raw head.
  
  How many hours lays this purpose till the
    dawn,
  How many days came our mutual loss heavily
    along,
  How many years lie sheared since you danced
    upon the lawn?
  
  Questions flicker in the candles' turning
    light;
  Answers lay about like shadows, lengthening to
    night;
  Windows let in worse things, dark and bright.
  
  I watch a waxy mask creep into your skin,
  Creep and grow where ruddy love did once begin;
  I watch a waxy mask creep into your skin.
  
  Soon the hour's midnight, soon it's half past
    two,
  Soon you lay like scripture underneath the
    moon,
  Drawn and pale and frail, whose only word's
    "Too soon."
  
  "Too soon," I take the chorus up,
    although
  It's only you and me, the hospital bed, your
    arms of soft dough,
  And silence.  Silence thus, and silence so.
  
  
  

 [34 of 365]

  What was the look in the
    last dodo's eye?
  How graceful and final it
    must have been.
  How luxurious must have
    felt the hunter's gun,
  how the penultimate,
    piggy pop must've been
  so satisfying.
  
  I look at you look at me,
    last of my kind,
  hair bandaged around my
    head with sweat,
  muscles in my neck
    coiling like oiled snakes,
  white static hissing
    skullward from-where?-
  You look so satisfied.
  
  
  
  

 [35 of 365]

  Òthese unsung hours
    excite the inklings of poetsÓ
                    -Peter
    Davidson
  
  Liberating
    viciousness--who would bother
  to imagine it? Foam lips
    hiss-spit against
  the rough-good rigmarole
    of coastal rocks;
  this is argument's
    synergy,
  
  a new, rough-hewn word
    for sin,
  simple sin, easy sin,
    sleazy sin, sin of guilty parties
  without the
    after-aperitif of contrition
  --who would bother to
    imagine it? Liberating
  
  how time unweaves the guilt we felt, were
    guilty
  of in actual fact: pins
    pinned in people, not dolls,
  mock trials we hung
    ourselves up on.
  This is argument's
    sin-energy,
  
  a claustrophobic blown
    for once
  out of the closet, out of
    the air, out of his cares;
  out, out, brief closetÉ.
    Who had bothered, who,
  to imagine it? Collapsed
    catastrophe. Who, who?
  
  
  

 [36 of 365]

  ÒSpeech, the profane
    ghostÓ - Robt. Pinsky
  
  Word, that comes
  where nothing was
  and's a ghost, iwis,
  all but bodiless,
  fickle as a kiss
  aimed at nothingness.--
  It cannot be, yet is,
  carrying Time to this;
  from the dead in tryst
  comes that that cannot
    exist
  except that it is:
  word, that comes
  profaning sacred is
  with mumbled, marbled
    was;
  but, no. It is, it is,
  this word that shifts
  is nothing but is
  lifted from this is.
  
  
  
  

 [37 of 365]

  Never have I felt so lost and groaning alone.
  So mapless. SoÉ roadless.
  
  The million wicked licks and charming, damning
    kisses--
  You open below me in the chair
  Hearts and groins groaning molten
  My stomach lives in my mouth
  My eyes are only inconsistently alert, sandy,
    hateful
  My fingertips frozen zenlike
  My pricktip zipped in ice
  No heat in my car, in my heart
  
  Have we shared nothing between us, if nothing
    is left?
  
  I take my heart back,
  unbearably altered.
  Your hands ruined in my hands
  My heart and my door locked against you--
  How long have I been writing poems because we
    could not talk?
  
  Unbearably altered
  I take my heart back:
  "Vehicle has fuel leak problem.
  It is--
              dangerous to drive.
  We try to fix, but
  could not fix.
  
  We didn't charge for
  fuel leak problem.
  
  But, customer need vehicle.
  He is taking the vehicle
  with fuel leak problem
  with his own risk."
  
  
  
  

 [38 of 365]

  
  Where is yesterday's penetence?
  ÒYou're a better person than me.Ó
  ÒDon't say that.Ó
  Where's the humility, the sobbing sincerity?
  The eyes like a liquid sob,
  arms and veins openÉ.
  
  
  
  
  

 [39 of 365]

  So I love you still. Under this tree,
  unter der linden,
  underground in my invisible way
  aggravated, incomplete, partial,
  corrupted by past events,
  by my own lack of vision.
  
  I cannot see how to love you openly anymore.
  
  My love must remain a secret
  if I am to survive at all.
  And, of course, I am not to survive,
  am not built to survive
  but to die- to 'die the death'-
  that's the truth all things repeat
  while my body lies and lives,
  lies and lives,
  oblivious and pinioned
  
  forever flying
  in the nowhere of now....
  
  Ah, God,
  I love you, I love you
  
  but not this pain, I swear.
  
  

 [40 of 365]

  It is equally important to
  demand ultimate freedom
            as to
  give that freedom
  in return.
  
  I've been slacking
        on demanding
  that freedom for myself,
  my winsome self
        my sacred self.
  
  O self I do not understand
  I will respect you,
  your integrity!energy,
  
  your demands
  your loves
                      that cannot
  w/out self-respect
  be pursued.
  
  First will come your format,
  healthy in body and brain;
  demanding THAT
  from timsspaceattention
  
  then your will
  holy holy holy
  
  spirit and principle made action;
  what will carry on
  beyond and after me
  into deathlessness
  
  .
  
  
  
  

 [41 of 365]

  At the end of the field
  where envy and defeat recede
  and the snow goes down to stubble
  there is little left
  for the spirit to feast on
  or for the heart to fester
  into wisdom within.
  
  At the end of the field
  beyond the gross boulder
  misshapen in sunlight,
  and the agony of daisies gone to rot
  a little chill water wastage
  engages the shadows of trees,
  the still dark
  any life tall enough might throw.
  
  At the end of the field
  where the stale allegory of our argument
  grinds down to groans
  and unwonted silence settles
  like the death of a car
  rejecting its engine,
  
  our newness begins,
  begins again
  begins always
  begins forever
  
  dark water startled
  into rivets of light.
  
  
  
  

       [42 of 365]

  The ÒMore OrÓ Mirror Roars O!
    
    
  
  Ritualistic prŽcis of precision
       brought to bear on
  divisive animistic indecision,
       on whether one
  is coldly nobler or has more fun
       winning, losing,
  or just fumbling the gun
       back to unbecome--
  rewinding the mind's timing
       to Ònever begun.Ó
  
  When the mirror walks at you
       melting palms and melding minds
       it seems so easy,
  backing up into a discreter two,
       to divide our problems
       into you, you, and you.
  But what does one become, what find,
       descending into funhouse
       distortions wavy-greasy?
  Problems thought two, are one, and you.
  

[43 of 365]

    
  Retched at the Nuyorican Poets' CafŽ
    
    
  
  Where's the poem about adult anger?
  Where's the poem about festering rage?
  Where's the poem that does not engage,
  That rips the reader and tears the
    page?
  
  Where's the murderous word we need
  To feel ourselves and to bleed?
  The salt that stuffs our mouths like
    creeds,
  Crammed and damned and horrified?
  
  Look into your hearts, you hypocrites,
    you lied.
  -Said the poet without looking up, and
    died.
  
  
  

[44 of 365]  Shouldering the Rudder

  
  I'm a bad correspondent,
            not touching
    trust,
                      nor
    having trust of touch,
  neither the small caress a phrase
    creates
       nor its more minor outbound ripples;
            one thing
    that touches another
  that touches it back in the backwash,
            co-respondent to their existences
  and not their petty insistences.
  
  I've never had, even the hack, writer's
            trust of
    words, in buckets,-
  that words thrown like rain above
  the suspect patch of lawn will reveal
       an invisible possible statue
            standing
    co-inhered.
  
  To make a shape's consistent if
    
    
            I've always
    maintained
  is a matter both of will and
    wish
            and's not a
    wordy gift,
  the Trojan joy of a seducer's kiss.
            Work is what
    it takes
  ever since the snake: work and sweat
    and death
  to make of parabolic History's finesse
            our human,
    immobile mess,--
  shouldering the rudder of a deep-draft
    ship
            that steams
    on without us
  kicking at the keel, our aquatic
            anxious duty
    to effort.
  
  If one thing's touch may another touch,
  I know not how, nor how much.
  I've no faith in such-and-such.
            No faith
    that that
  statue was already there somehow
  on the played-out patch of wetted lawn,
            undefiled by
    dogs,
  unseen by eyes.
  
            Eyes, that
    lightest touch
  (or mock of touch that touches too
    much)
            that steals
    the very most.
  
  
  
  

 [45 of 365]

  Have I forgotten, forgotten?
  I have tried
                     and tired.
  I have been to San Francisco
  I have climbed the still mountain
  I have clattered through Chinatown on a
    cable car
  I have returned in merriment.
  
  And I was stuck in the Pittsburgh
    airport
            14 hours,
    hours
  And I was soaked to the bone dodging
    lightning
  And I was shivering night long on an
    air mattress
  And I was offered a sucking by a drag
    queen.
  
  And I have not forgotten, forgotten.
  Nor have I forgiven you,
                                           gesturing
  In sudden solitary rage
  And surprising myself with my intensity
                 My lightning
  And my sudden foggy calmness
                 Afterwards.
  
  
  

[46 of 365]

  This is not poetry.
  This is emotional
    journalism,
  The easy parallelism of the
    lines,
  Everything declared
                                  and nothing explored.
  
  Poetry doesn't give up on
    its own words.
  The way these things
                                    lie
    languageless
  Or like a saint aren't
    interested
  In what they're made of
                                         only where they're going.
  Poetry doesn't care to be
  Anything but itself
                                part of the living world,
  Alive.
  
  Like these talentless
    things, I became
  Interested in your idea of
    me, and not myself.
  I was tangled up and drawn
    on, drawn in
  A kite in a jet engine
                                    thinking of you, your
  Idea of me, and not myself.
                                               I
    got lost
  And, unlike a poem,
  I got dead.
  
  
 

[46 of 365] Hero du Jour

  My eyes were blinded by
    hail and rain
  And I was crying, my feet
    soaked
  In icy runoff -- the world
    a vista
  Of afternoon lightning and
    snickering hail
  As I walked off the top of
    a mountain
  Losing the view
                           that made my lungs ache
  And slithering along frozen
    rocks
  Ahead of my useless crew
  Until everything else ached
    and ached...
  
  But there was one skyhigh
    moment
  Standing with my eyes full
    of mystery sky
  And a flush throughout me,
    I know, of eros
  And I could see the world
    thrown down like a cape
  And the storm coming a
    stain upon it
  Just edging the silk with
    wetness
  And you ran along my
    nerves, only you
                             hotly
  
  And I did not forget you
    when my bones ached.