Dawn Too Over the Medieval River

sitting wondering    smoke from his quasimodo cigarette
the battlements of paris are still around his brain
sunrise caught in their crenellations
dawn yawning and the earth turning under his feet

petrification is a long dirty road
earth dropping like dust from the rolled bottoms of his trousers
existential comfort is good for only a moment or two
then back to around the city walls     his endless pacing

the world is so nasty now that the middle ages seem like paradise
rasputin fingering the car company in his pants
the king worshipping himself as the incarnation of all gods ever
so don’t give me another medieval romance as a cure for anything
smoking your dreams is lethal    you burn yourself out
the thousands of this city    are ready for the light

Written March 27, 2025

Denly Ware

i hear them:

	sucks in abs o phorical saint
	munal soul just before it shakes hands with
	isolated     itted     denly aware of
	click     clack     prayed with after timing
	itself open in public     gument     glibly to say
	clear throat     rection     ar gue     think of myself now
	a self-delusion imagining itself in real time
	walk     walking’s free     come on over ethereal meatball
		hot city at the base of the clouds

	newly seized power from its house of wart monkeys
	mermaids and sea elephants dunking green donuts
	in one of the side fountains where dren fidently play
	a biolinguistic image of a stewed dragon projected on a cathedral wall
	a kitten carrying a barrel of water in a coffee cup

from Yew Nork (2014)

Two Kids Playing Catch

that once     as i was a kid
made no idea
the storm drain was much louder then
old age brings secrets of helicopters

to an older body     the black sky of sleep
at first draw a blue stripe at the top of the picture
the first time i went down to the subway
i hold its bones like dice in my hand

	behind grey clouds there is invisibility
	the water’s at the lip of the cup now
	then there’s green     that’s grass     at the bottom
	people waiting hardly moving for the next train
	you’ll never reach this age if you think about it
	so much space between green and blue
    
    
    
    
    

from Yew Nork (2014)

Pomp and Circumstance

i once thought of life as a play
one’s own play
with one’s seat center stage for the duration

but now i think that that isn’t true
that one’s life really is a play
that all the characters one knows are in it
that they are all in the play their entire lives
and     still     that one’s one’s own main character
but that that character is born and dies
in the middle of the third act

from Yew Nork (2014)

Another Measure of Decadence

as the blows against trump get harder
his skull gets thinner
until it’s like eggshell
    so beautiful    he thinks
    like fabargé
the romanovs 
would have been proud

from Trump Tics (2020)

Through the Dark

my mouth makes a noise:
     is it a cat?
     a child?
it creeps through a graveyard
its tongue pulling it along
     the great vacancy
     behind it
     a new kind of oblivion for the dead:

in mouth there is no rot
no bones to be dried
nothing ostentatious
even breath and eating
are from some other place

and it pulls itself along
swallowing nothing
soul's antithesis
leaving nothing
but tracks
an occasional belch
and a faint noise of invisible wheels

from Oedipus' First Lover (2009)

Outside of the Bank

in the financial district      the neglected cardiologist
count the prostitutes

the executive strip club      tears too early to cry
count the prostitutes

the sterling reputation of the corner bank  
the empty middle of gold coins

the last lava shake at pompeii=s last coffeehouse
you could see from the aquarium room on the top floor of your greed
where cattle graze on their passports and entire armies are invented
where memories of trojan air raid sirens 
are the punch lines of broken condom jokes
and the men in blind grey suits     fight on their knees 
with cardboard swords and shields of woven rubber bands
where death is conceptual and sexy
and down several stories    they=ve thrown images of you
like you=d throw clay onto a wheel
and dressed the product in a bright red miniskirt
and a sign that says eat at standard oil
then pretend to give it their hearts    and yours
and give it legionary songs to be played
by quaint belching rodents inside sousaphones
and aim for the gut      it=s the biggest target

your eyes      your living room      your stuffed toy self
your memories of canyon de chelly lascaux and your childhood peter pan
your stray stuffed heart      pounding within the cotton batting
	don’t sell out
	please    world    
	don’t sell out

Subdigm

subdigm the domivert paranant

from Oedipus' First Lover (2009)

1916

three a m 
the czar becomes aware that there are other russians
and of the moon     the memory of the sun
the memory of stars like insects in a field of dark wheat
he goes to the window     the stars are still there

far off in another wing of the palace 
he hears someone playing a violin
he relaxes     goes back     lies down
he didn’t know his heart was that high pitched
that it held in it the songs of peasants and children
he flexes his hand     getting his cavalry ready
he rolls onto his other side goes back to sleep

from Oedipus' First Lover (2009)

Advice Column

suppose you’ve been valentine’s day for a week
looking for sunrise through the spaces
between the black bars on a bank computer form
looking for months every day for a home for news
or at least what’s rumored to be news

do it with a blanket
better than a blank bank form

do it with the smile of a laugh
better than an information dump truck

your fingers dance nude in cyberspace
even if their partners are words and numbers

don’t be part of a formal agreement
be love
be love
people are waiting for you

from Oedipus' First Lover (2009)

The Eyes of the City

the eyes of the city
are not the windows
you pass on your way to the subway

the eyes of the city dwell
brightly in their own thoughts
thousands of them    all around you

you could love them
they could love you
love you without even knowing it
love you who are there with them
you    too
the eyes of the city