there’s been a break
between that old battling life
and this one
I can’t begin to describe
the anguish I was in for years
but it looks like I won’t have to
it’s from here, in this
sublime and ordinary life
that I can see
all my brothers and sisters are not free
it is from here, high up
on this peak
that I can see
the range
IT’S A WRAP
I sent her roses once
and she asked me if I sent them
I asked her who else would’ve,
we were in a monogamous relationship
and it was a simple question
but it angered her
“OH SO IT WAS A TRAP AND YOU’RE TRYING TO CATCH
ME IN A LIE. YOU CAN’T EVEN SEND ROSES RIGHT!”
I hadn’t even considered that someone else might send her roses,
let alone try and catch her in a lie.
Sitting here this morning,
way past when I should be thinking about her,
I realize
it was a lie,
a lie of deflection and projection,
blaming me for not sending roses right-
a big ruse.
She was deflecting the question
and put the focus on blaming me somehow,
which sums up our whole relationship.
We saw each other for another 2 months after that
but I never sent her roses again.
do you remember the revolution?
those simpatico highwire nights manning the phones,
those bright&proud mornings canvassing the streets,
our many voices, our one voice-LOUD
on every corner
joined arm in arm, locked in song, singing,
do you remember feeling like we were winning,
we could win
and the innate goodness of man would prevail?
me neither
but there was this show on t.v. about it,
came on last night after Wolf Blitzer
I highly recommend it.
you go!
on Facebook
use your voice
on social media
get loud and be heard
rally and wear down the resistance
post after post
further the national conversation
stand firmly on the right side of history
it’ll all come out in the wash
brothers&sisters
our efforts will not be in vain
I believe in a future
where all our children can watch
as Facebook offers “A Look Back”,
a movie compiling all our proud posts,
our moments in the struggle
fighting
hitting enter, clicking ‘Like’.
every day worn out with the wrong reason
for this
every attempt to save it somehow, vetted
for this
I sit by the window drinking coffee
and it’s easy
I buy roses from Billy on the corner
and it’s good
walking into the setting sun
pretending I can feel it rise in Hong Kong
feeling you out there, somewhere
behind me
walking the kind streets of my new city
alone
every day I come
offer ablution
lay fresh flowers
every day I pull
weeds cloying from her cheek
sweep the sand from her fingers
every day she sits
in the wreck of the city
so sad & so silent & still
her children have fell
into the water
the coast is peppered
with spearhead and coin
every day we cry silently
without a word or tear
he broke
from his bone altar
to dream his last dream
forever
she stood there like empire
heels dug into gravel
smooth legs blazing out of teal blue
bun on her head tighter than a fist
she calls out to him, “Daddy.”
she can’t wait another second
he stands…leans, bloated in wealth
impotent with drink
“I’m…coming!”
it’s a shame she’s standing there
a shame she can’t wait
a shame someone’s watching this
through the blinds
UPSTAIRS AT ABYSSINIA
at the height of its roar
that place was like a railroad car
the joint was small, and it shook
in the night,
it rattled the neon
there was
saxophones&sweat
“gin and catatonics”
street poetry&sex
in the ladies’ room
the owners were always
climbing the stairs
threatening Colleen,
if we couldn’t behave
they would shut it right down
which of course we couldn’t
so they did.
I read there, did spoken word
every Sunday night
I was paid in whisky
it was a time and a place
wild, unhinged, idyllic days
at the end of the century.
now it’s called Fiume,
and I hear it’s full of Penn kids
most nights
–from All in the wind
COUNTDOWN BLUES
I keep a # by your name
it gets smaller every day
feeling like Kevin James
“glad I left L.A.”
my days are coffee, nicotine
the purple off a grackle wing
I covet your death
&pass the hours
burning hearts
out of
playing cards
I got a witchy woman
lives out in Telluride
she keeps your photo framed
in a wreath of smoke&knives
gonna take it to the streets
and sink into the dusk
with a pair of black shades
and a bulletproof flask
I keep a # by your name
it gets smaller every day
Going for the Throat 