1583
Hand me a book and call it The Transcript.
Take me to the bathroom and put your makeup on me,
Talk to me in your serious voice.
Come stroke my head until this fever breaks.
Pull me aside and do something wild.
Play me that television program you used to love.
Talk to me in your serious voice.
Put your hand on the small of my back until it warms up.
Show me your "mountain falling into the sea" trick.
Meet me in the bar at eleven.
Talk to me in your serious voice.
Call me when you get out of the exam.
Monday, January 31, 2005
1582
I sent the fiddle packing
You made the mascara run
We sat down to the hard work
Of who to blame for fun
It was a little before
You couldn't break the news
That we couldn't have the money
You'd been keeping in your shoes
That was when I stopped trying
To be friends with the real world
I got back to fighting shape
You explained what mash notes are
I wouldn't squash that grape
You wouldn't go that far
You said, sweet feet, listen
Let's run with the salmon
I said creole waltz,
Let's get in the car and drive up to the Schwangunks
And that was when I stopped trying
To write American songs
And looked back in the morning
At what could and could not be
1581
I feel dizzy.
I'm going to get up and open a window.
I'm going to shout at the top of my lungs
It's a Monday and the ambient light
Isn't hoping to be part of drama.
It's a craving for fennel
The month is spilling everywhere
And I am wondering when in the starvation
Will I start feeling ravenous
Love for all the passing traffic
No I'm not.
I'm sitting at my desk hating the internet
For being more interesting than everything
Real and delicious and given up for lent
Religion as detox it's many minutes
Into the Brian Eno composition
I am such an xy, I like the liking
Of varietals
Honesty compels me to treat the alphabet
Like a playing card I have to live across
Wait, wait for me a minute longer.
Saturday, January 29, 2005
1574
I don't believe
that cameras steal
your soul
which may explain
why I don't take
pictures of people
the homeland security ban
on subway photography
protects me from
seeing myself in cartoons
of a baby mouse
left in a bundle
at the door
to wit, it's not a quality
of the young woman
in old woman clothes with
a quatrain in ball point
on the back of her hand
I wanted to see again
or forget, whatever
the work order says
that's the one thing I won't do
1573
You want me to get out
and help?
The 8's
stuck between an SUV
and a squad car.
Waving,
still waving,
still waving.
He comes around
and flips the SUV
's sideview mirror back.
We squeak
through.
What kind of
cop parks
like that, on
the no parking
side of a one
way street, off
a snowbank.
The driver doesn't
seem to mind.
Had to sit for
fifteen minutes
behind a school
bus the other
Our ad hoc traffic
guard resumes
his seat.
Next stop Lewis
Warsh gets on.
I tug his sleeve
as he walks past.
It's been months.
He's going to Africa,
A little country called
Lesotho. The Switzerland
of Africa, I say.
He looks good.
As usual he is in love.
I half want to tell him
to send his novels
to the New York Review
to be reprinted.
Instead, I hop off
at Astor Place,
having complained mildly
about my job,
and go pick up
some gratis contacts
for M., taking pictures
of the sun finding out
how good it feels
on the sides of
Gramercy, then Gracie,
and then I'm in
the doctor's office,
admiring the smoke
Con Ed uses to light
up the dusk.
Please excuse Jordan
from finding a way
to reprise the image
at the beginning
of this poem;
being born once
was plenty, thanks.
Thursday, January 27, 2005
1568
It's time for a new screenshot.
You have come up through the leaves
And are looking around the orchard
For a place to rest your camembert.
No, I won't hold the grapes above your lips.
Yes, I voted in the last election.
We who are working on our
"Long Suffering" merit badges
Are taking notes. Names.
Wednesday, January 26, 2005
1566
It is amusing to watch an airplane
Flicker doubled across the binoculars,
But more to the point is the passage
Across darkened lenses of the women.
But then of a sudden comes
A giant dragonfly bearing a man
In its jaws and the fields of death
Are momentarily in disarray.
One airplane passes another
And they give the airplane salute:
Tipping the "wing hat"
1565
The clouds move by off the coast.
The sounds of plastic bags and seagulls.
Discussions in French on the dollar.
"What! She's wearing all my clothes?!"
Rising, the women retie their tops.
The container ship lists to port.
The ventilator for the food cart kicks in.
It is nearly the sterile hour of four.
Printed silks and cottons move in the breeze.
I am wholly engrossed in this flickering scene.
1564
AT THE OPERA
Someone please advise the mayor
A good living comes from the sand
And our sunlit days away from the mess
Are the stinging's soft ruffled head.
Solitude. It feels like an apology
For wasting time.
I emerge a few questions away
From a new habit of thought.
We are out of bubble liquid.
Riding on his father's shoulders
A young boy calls out "Norma!"
1563
If you call it love
You scare it away
But what you don't name
Opens the door and stares.
The music will burn you
If it gets through the net
So whistle where it's dark
And wait with the trees
For the slenderest woman
To ignore the birds
On her way back
From the stone store.
She speaks the language
Without any accent.
A man can be forgiven
Certain infractions.
1562
THE NEWS INSIDE THE BOOK
Is that the filing was late.
Flakes of salt don't wait
For you to be psychic
Among the pasting.
They fetch a purpose for the difficult
Laziness you and I have yet
To insult. Also, quantities
Make speeches. The heavier
Clauses imagine a plaque
Honoring sleep - so may the feelings
Of love jostle me out of a code habit.
Strolling across the highway
(Abandoned). Everybody's lights on.
Nobody dead. No answer
Except intermittent giggling.
1560
THE PAGE IS A UNIT OF TIME
Three dimensions are plenty.
Privacy wants to make the house cover its obligations.
Ghosts are givens.
The default settings are the world.
Quiet is a commodity.
Marbles going down the track; water falling down the sides of the mountain.
I hear someone I respect say something stupid, or worse, dated -- pain in my chest.
I make a sound; who would think of that as an intervention?
1559
THE LOST PEN
The shit of gold, kill lost under a blown-down debt to what rises, laughing, from the dust it's been offered to.
It's quiet down in the pursed lips, the movies traded into a quick nothing in that feeling bloom.
All the stories you'd heard (and some of the ones you made up) are true.
1556
THE PANDAS
Coming back from the train station
I see a sign for the zoo.
"When it's warmer, let's
Go see the pandas."
You bring the car to a stop.
A light rain starts. There too,
I'll be distant, vague,
And subject to outbursts.
An open vehicle not unlike a golf cart
Will roar as it accelerates uphill.
Tuesday, January 25, 2005
1550
POLICY DECISIONS
A purple light shines in the middle of the room.
I remember my bank account number.
Bubble forced downward by the flow from the upended bottle,
Come closer, o smear on the mirror.
Blind as bread.
I want the follow music to pray with me for chase dust.
I don't crumple the fumes.
It finds its way around the experience.
It has memories, but not its own.
Thursday, January 13, 2005
1543
WHAT IS VERTICAL?
Ambulatory perms,
Diminished typeface expositrons,
Limbic dedali umpiring news magi,
Fee beziers,
Comb barring false laggard strudel curds,
Tank maintenance dudes,
Pez whores,
Wrong number druid paymasters,
Lancome addicts,
Punk crit femur slammers,
Parallel universe dime-speedy makeover clues,
Numb ears,
Grab bags,
Dick jokes,
Good wheat.
1541
The thinking goes,
"Let me have tame markups
And precipices with mean seasons.
"Give me the stamina of luminous prudes,
I am feigning a disaster movie
For my overplus of thawed vanity."
Zoom in on the crew
As they disassemble
The raw data,
They're waiting to be
What America is waiting for,
The highway fading
In the mirror in the sun.
1540
I get up and turn off the monitor.
It's dark and foggy outside
But by the power of my imagination
I don't even need a coat.
Heat cascades off my body
With the indignation of a church
Full of women. I am greedy
For foods and flowers,
I want the women to perform
A Twyla Tharp piece in which
They pass inches from each other
In complete indifference. The truth
Is singing through me.
1539
ALL THE PEANUT BUTTER SANDWICHES IN VERMONT
The green fizzy fruit
Has chunks of apple inside it.
Some music annoys me
And I am wishing for a little
Knock-it-off energy
To come out through my eyes,
It makes me the target audience
For superhero movies.
The ceremony on the bridge
Involves standing on your head
On the railing. It's windy
And damp, I am
Waiting for an anniversary
To get moving. Use time,
They told me. Lean away
From the handkerchief.
This plaza was cleared
By goats.