Tuesday, December 18, 2012

Dark December



There's a house
on the fractured
horizon.

A light is on
in the night,
one light.

Much is perfect,
even the chair,
I told them.

I will prove it,
when we get there,
I told them.

(All memories are manufactured.)

They needed to know.

Louring clouds: slate, snow,
char, crow,
gray mustard, dark
December.

Escape the brazen
bronze bazar. Enter
reedy hut, lower
the drape.

Friday, November 30, 2012

Ghastly Giant



Cast in perpetual night,
nervous insects venerate
dime-size leathery hate.

Rake rust: bit of bone found,
sound 
amongst hoary dust.

Come to accurate
conclusion
and move along.



Thursday, November 29, 2012

In the Rain



Atmosphere cleansing,
words resound
in the rain.

Slight splatter on sidewalk
brings syllable to focus.

Consonants charge,
rise and ring
in the rain,
atmosphere cleansing.

In the rain,
tooth and tongue
are sharpest.

It began at a funeral,
continued along quiet lane,
down the severe hill,
in the rain.

And this is what I am here to tell you,
this is what I mean to say:

The same quandary,
over and over
and over again? It's
rarely resolved, 
not even in the rain,
atmosphere cleansing,
words 
in sharp relief.

Friday, November 23, 2012

Toll Taken



She peers into mirror,
placid surface meeting stare,
blink for blink.

There's nothing she can do.

Her season, a lunar vacancy.

There's nothing she can do.

Promenades, packed in cobweb;
valentines, jarred and shelved.

Once, she tried to expunge her past.

Table turned, it's rid itself of her.

On the vesper side, lights flash.

Sunday, November 18, 2012

Feral



On.

On its shelf. A stout
mocha, cobalt, amber 
fray.

Malt grist,
vaporish door.

Flares spitting
at stars, they
cannot win.

Rickety crane
swivels 
round, 
round-round:

waltz time.

Squirrels appreciate
pause, anticipate
dawn: dreams electrically
animate 
feral animal brain.

Saturday, November 17, 2012

Chorus



Dresden. Helsinki.

Hiroshima. Nagasaki.

Leningrad. Moscow.

Hanoi. Bombay.

Peking. Havana.

Algiers. Abuja. 

Santiago. Roma.

Rio. Milan.

On and on...

The Communists
are the smart ones,
in charge and 
cool, in stride.

Concerto in Red.
Lady in Red.

Millions, marching,
cheering!
Millions as one!
Marching! Red
flags defiant,
brilliant in the sun!

Resilient.

Red.

Friday, November 16, 2012

Love



The watermark...

Even suffering
Bolivian century under 
ten feet of cement,

the watermark remains.

Hold it to 
light and
see!

Sunday, November 4, 2012

The Long Hill



They are on their way.

Having left a quarter-hour ago,
they are on their way.

Up, up, up the long hill

bearing black roses,
a dozen black roses.

They are on their way,
into the gathering grim,
bearing a dozen black roses.

Smirking stars manifest,
animal eyes squint.

Up, up, up the long hill.

They are on their way.

Thursday, November 1, 2012

Rust




I don't mind 
darkness.

No, Plutonian is ideal.

And I prefer the day 
overcast, gray
as Bucharest. 

Yes, 
that is fine with me.

These things
are fine.

These things
are fine with me.

Drear is fine
with me, Romanian eve
is fine.

Unhinged sunlight
is rust in my motor,
a stick in my eye.

Wednesday, October 31, 2012

Close Up



Collect

your thoughts. Take
a breath. That 
challenge is one.

Make a list, I advise.

In resolving this
you may stare all you wish, 
familiar as hornets.

Someday we'll know.

Erosion



Working class people
assaulting, receding,
leaving shells,
debris.

Lose
everything, as
you await counterattacks.

The ones who see so 
clearly these days!
Forthcoming,
real punches.

Rains,
cloud formations, fleeting,
tomato tortures, punctuated
by murder
of crow,
but it's done.
On TV.

If someone
is rich, it remains: it's
a lie. You have a lot
to lose by not conceding.

Think about it.

Monday, October 29, 2012

Storm Signal



Yes.

If this disparity persists,
it's coming.

The fact. It
will be settled. In
the streets.

The wealthy have, 
perhaps, received
a fair warning shot.

Yes. If this
disparity persists, 
it's coming.

The fact. That so many
are so rich
while others suffer?

Moreover, what is
needed?

It's coming.

Sunday, October 28, 2012

The Sect



I can't recall.

It was long ago.

What little I remember is

sketchy.

A yellow wall?

An island? Snow?
Lilacs?

I don't know 
for
certain... It was all
so long ago.

Didn't we rise late,
very late? As the sun
set?

Yes. Each day, as
the sun set,
we woke.

Long ago. So long ago.

Friday, October 26, 2012

Ants



Red ant, yellow ant.
Incoherent aunt,
no fixed address.

Coffee table mess,
blood jolts glass, 
warm to cold caress.

Blue ant mirrored.
Deep verdant rise,
agonized skies, cumulus highs.

An infant recalcitrant
over the rise,
jackhammer sun. 

Jalapeño tommy gun
smile, tiny tombstones.
Nose, brittle broke bones.

Fluorescent phones,
exhaled. 
From infinite black: pair.

Distant tiger eyes 
shine, fresh wave, fare
upon shore, steal show.

Friday, October 19, 2012

No One




Fortunes lie,
fashion high.

(No
one wanted you 
at the burial. 
No
one wanted to 
suffer 
your stickpin
eyes, your lungs
stoic as a cockroach.)

Colors fast,
seasons past.

Thursday, October 18, 2012

Travel



Having
run out of money
run out of money
run out of money
in due
course

(corduroy white as Farsi salt, 
morning star)

posturing saint sighs
Lacoste lane of
bereft tree
howling clouds, 
spine
lousy with fish
hooks, ears spilling
sirens.

(Field fallows,
flickers afar.)

Magenta
mountain swallows
sapphire
sun in

the sweet bye
and bye.

Slight fellow follows
tungsten
fire.

Wednesday, October 17, 2012

Specimen




Your day:
fusty fuss!
Twist a dial, dust a bottle!
Collect caps, buckets and
buckets of musty
bottle caps!

Your night:
Gatling gun blasting blanks 
on a run,
sneer and roll,
bandoleer armed crusty nun!
Never so much pointless noise,
fidgety plotless ploys!

Your face:
galvanized steel, garbage can
clanged about by garbage man!
No eyes, no nose!
No mouth!
Just steel, cold galvanized steel!
Never enjoys Argentinian meal!

Sickly Prussian blue 
regimen 
of such a specious specimen!

Tuesday, October 16, 2012

What



What have you done?

She whispered in young
woman's ear.

On a stretcher lying
on a stretcher
young woman
motionless
on a stretcher.

What have you done? My little girl?
What have you done? 
She stood by
petrified by
20-year-old motionless.

12:09

Wave of guilt.

Wave of anger.

1:46

She stroked 
sweaty cheek.

3:32

She stayed
all night with her
waited
all night with her
till sun
all night with her.

What have you done?

Whispered in ear
in young woman's ear.
But the ear didn't hear.

6:05

Monday, October 15, 2012

East of West



Luxuries, lost.

Amenities, lost

Even basics, lost,
one by one,
day by day.

Nothing to be done,
one by one,
day by day.

Down to one 
radio, just
one. 

We used to scan 
the radio 
for Satie,
Satie by the sea,
Satie,
now for news
whatever bitter scraps
we hope to use. 

(The news
is never good.)

Bombs whistle,
explode.

Cloud 
rains dust 
debris of loam brick
mortar bone flesh
blasted bit of furniture.

Far horizon,
shrillest shriek. 
The mean men
are at it again
blood streak
torture 
their mirth.

Sadist and victim
grunt and scream
grotesque duet
strange remains
farmhouse sepulcher
indelible signature...

Once there were luxuries,
amenities.
No more, lost. 
Basics, lost. 

Just one
radio. 

Dearth. Ever
worse and
worse. Remains
atop the earth
gruesome
banquet for some.

Then air is meek.
For moments...
Minutes... An hour?

Bombs whistle,
explode. 

Obscene 
bird squawk: the news, it's
never good. 

(Static...)

We used to enjoy 
radio for Satie,
Satie by placid 
sea, Adriatic 
Sea: Rijeka,
halcyon sand 
and
Dubrovnik.

The Adriatic! Royal
blue, bluer
than Danube, blue.
A bolder blue 
you will never view.
(It's true, it's true...)

A roll,
a wave of Satie,
basking, lolling 
by the sea,
lost.

Sunday, October 14, 2012

Killing Frost



(for Morton Feldman)


On the ground,
come.

Come, thief, think
of one.

Fly away, fly
away, away. 

Fly.

Moon and Mars and stars, flung
three degree. 

Stung...

Pare
small air.

Catacomb of cloud
and calculation, cornflower 
constellation,
Corinthian caffeine
rose, abnegation
by a nose. 

Daughter of Priam, no chimera led,
promptly fled. 

Brooder, spoiled: 
utterly opaque 
the heartless
stake.

Murder on homeward
path, not far, not 
far: think of 
one 
lot.

Fly away, fly away.

Fly away. Shawl.

1961



(for J.G., P.B., S.S. & C.B.)

Jesus, Maria!  Emphasis
in the mornings
out there,
scootin' about.

Cry! Want!

Brief hesitation, venture.
Afternoon trudgin'...

Ictus! (Carla)
Sonic whirrrr... That's
true, that's true. Good-bye,
flight.

The gamut? Me,
too, temporarily, Herb
& Ictus!

0:44

Saturday, October 13, 2012

Rats



In the basement there are
rats:
green glowing rats.

In the walls there are 
rats:
green glowing rats.

They're there, they're 
here.

Beady eyes, beady
brains: rats.

Electric lime Jello rats.

Lawn's 

ALIVE

with green glowing 
rats spouting
tarot fortunes.

They're there,
showboating
soothsayers,
rays of rats.

Under bed: a
solid sovereignty
of rat mafia:
trundling
green
glowing rats.

Shouldn't someone
notify 
proper authority?

A horror show, ghastly.
Lurid, too.

Sickening, if
you must
know.

Tumbling from maple,
scooting 'cross rooftop,
gnawing evergreen...

Perched on my
shoulder:
droll
insouciant rat
sophisticate.

Collecting cobweb 
on whisker,
hear them above,
my dove,
so many tiny 
tiny tiny feet,  
dry rusty attic,
theirs complete,
dry rusty
dusty
attic leaky.

Scores of rats. Hundreds
of ratty rat-hearted
rats: green
glowing electric lime 
Jello. It stopped
being funny a
long while 
ago.

Rattled. 

In the car? They're 
there, as well, as well
as the well, diving to
heart's content,
breaststroke the
currently current
rat rage.

Electric current
electric lime Jello
Jello

Jello rats.

And what is evidence for these
extravagant claims? Fellow
hasn't any.

Friday, October 12, 2012

Listen



Stop.

Put down the pepper grinder.

Listen. Put your ear 
to the door.

Listen.

Well?

Tuesdays, I drive a
long drive
to the supermarket, 
walk a squeaky silver
cart up and
down

blinding linoleum,

adding boxes and jars,
a sack of potatoes.

Contemporary 
capriccio piped
in.

I don't know a soul. It's
better this way, moving 
parts fewer, a
carapace from ice
and crease.

Listen: I've no patience for 
hardy
hearts or potbellied
portfolios.

The table radio
plays
symphony and
concerto: strings swoop,
plucked. Bells
chime.

Listen.

Thursday, October 11, 2012

I Wish You Well



Yellow line.
Yellow bus.
Yellow pencils.

Mystic

Seaport. Sea 
chanties,
rock candy, salt water 
taffy.

You:

prettiest
girl in the entire
fourth grade.

Smartest, too: 

steeped
in Wernher von Braun and
Van Cliburn and
Edgar Allan Poe.

Plaid jumper. Knee
socks.

Peter Pan
collar.

You patted, 
anxiously patted,
your right thigh when you 
knew
the answer.

You puffed bangs 
out of eyes 
when deep in

thought.

You led the pack.

But stopped:

palms on knees, long
hair hanging,
spine an arch, gasping. 

From my table radio, 
Schubert's Ninth Symphony.

On my bed, three cats: one
yawning, one
dreaming, one 
purring.

Stepping onto noon's bright
porch, gleaming
penny in hand,
I sail it into the azure. 

The coin arcs, then
descends into Eden of fir
and fern 
and myrtle.

I hear it hit woodland floor, 
and I wish you 
well.

Wednesday, October 10, 2012

One Thousand



One thousand brilliant blue volts
silent coursing scorching: steep

One thousand priestly hands
moist plump silken: creep

One thousand cover girl smiles
symmetry perfect metric: weep

One thousand seedling brains
dry ice chip vocalizing: leap

One thousand pink tarantulas
zig-zag scuttle scurry furry: heap

One thousand cryptic sad Okinawas
moon-crazed sparrow alien: peep

One thousand dead dwarf stars
hover glassy glacial caverns: deep

One thousand bluestone torrid trails
jitterbugging jollity out to sea: keep

I'm serious. Don't pretend this is
some sort of 

joke.

Red cosmos, certain crash.
Red tulips, explode,
burden, bury
with ash.

Saturday, October 6, 2012

All in a Row



Winners: all in a row.

Winners.

Identical iceberg eyes.

Forum eyes, dismissive

eyes.

Smug smile eyes. 
Throats choking
on tar baby cries.

Mouths dripping

sulfureous lies.

Those winners,
hearty and hale,
exhale
morphia powder,
clam chowder.

Mummified hands splatter
applause
from bleacher bandstands, 
marching bands,
Sousa marching bands.

Lying liars,
lying in wait.

Lying liars,
squealing

vampires.

Winterize. 
Shoot 'em 'tween
their eyes,
those winners.

Those winners, all sitting ducks, 
in a row.

Coney Island sideshow
plastic 
ducks: comic
book colors:

bobbling. Witless.

Take bead, 
green-eyed refugee,
identify. 

Take bead and gently (gently)

squeeze 

the trigger, kewpie your prize:
big idiot eyes, 
insipid lips, topknot prize.

Enter, gently (gently), where night
owl and early bird converge
by the river...

Happy days will be here, again, again.
Happy days will be here. Again.