Poetry

I will dive to the bottom of the hotel pool and find my mother’s hairpin. With the mouth of a drowning woman on my lap, I will add her breath to mine. In the dark, I will lay the thin white sheet of moonlight over the blue plums of my wife’s breasts. With the new…

Accept it. There will never be anything else Except this here. April snowstorm Sweeps away the filaments of smoke, and then The sun appears and melting ice Drop by drop trickles from stiff cables. Let’s avoid misunderstanding Stammer out this rapture together with sorrow Between ice and water, in the hazy Spring light when drain…

I can"t say: sweat, and then skin, and then mom, and then speak. No such thing as a sentence, it seems. No such thing as what’s    happening. Moth under the covers, get out. Brown wings, hung on the lamp    stand. If the soul lives in memories then the soul is no matter to reckon   …

The street went up a slight rise and then angled up toward the left, like a raised arm. There were four utility poles on one side: each pole was a T with two crosses, with the wires coming from each pole and extending out in a messy radiance of black lines to the houses and…

Perhaps someone was watching a mud turtle or an armadillo skulk along an old interminable footpath, armored against sworn enemies, & then that someone shaped a model, nothing but the mock-up of a hunch into a halved, rounded, carved-out globe of wood covered with animal skin. How many battles were fought before bronze meant shield…

The embarrassment of wanting to pray to God, the demand that God give a good Goddamn had made him pretty nutty by the end; a lifelong Marxist, he took up with Ouspensky, then spent all his money (and he had tons, all those years in the bank when Das Kapital and the Wall Street Journal…

We have smoked all the cigarettes and sold the last pack years ago but I think you’ll thank us once you read the research—that much we took upon ourselves. So, remember: smoking kills. Beware of radiation, mercury and ground-level ozone, and for God’s sakes, wear your seatbelts in whatever kind of wacky cars you make….

Here, on the boulevard of run- amuck dreams, each stamped with a doll-like face you half- recognize as yours, the neon displays its chilly, self- possessed light. But the lips on the billboards are raspberry cream. They say Buy me or Be me, you can’t tell. You’re confused like mad again, in this night of…

They said that’s where Lulu went, that was the smell. Not rats. Fifty years go by. They say Yes. They don’t change their story, it’s true. A low cement block fence around the house, a collie dog bark, four kids. Not collie, but collie dog, Howdy as in Doody, The Stooges on someone else’s TV….