Sunday, August 20, 2017

One of the Ladies Who Walks Her Dog in a Group


.
.
You are
equal to them.
You are one of them.
Worthy of a smile.
You are wearing
worthy clothes others
immured with respect.
You know how to keep
your troubles silent.
.
They don't need
to take too much
time with you.
You stand straight
not stooped. They
like you
uncomplaining.
They will walk
beside you.

Saturday, August 12, 2017

Broken Practices


I am floating on habit
saying the worst cannot happen.
When I open my
front door a 
redbearded man is
standing in the hall,
wearing something
that shows his legs.
What are you doing
in my house? I shout.
The worst, he says,
can happen.

Friday, August 04, 2017

Seventy-Seven Year-Old Man


It is late
mid-morning and
most of my night-time
privacies have died down.
I shower and wash
almost all my
obsessions of grease and jelly.
I sit down on my dry chair
and let the cool air
sterilize my mind-flesh
away from what is impossible,
and the dreaming.
I redeem myself from
secrets.

Friday, July 28, 2017

New York, NY: Photoshow

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=FtG7aM70HjI

Wednesday, July 19, 2017

Small Lobby Waiting Room




We are
waiting for husbands
or brothers-in-law.
It is cool
but dark on mis-distributed
semi-soft benches and
hot outside in July.
The man in the corner
surrounded by luggage
is a vision
in night clothes
that my eyes
can not place.
He remains,
reality and memory
wrapped around him,
keeping his eyes
focussed on nothing
so he would not be seen.

Friday, July 14, 2017

Death of Instinct




Nobody's
beautiful anymore.
I found out
every body feels
about the same.
So what's all
the fuss about reality?
.
The theme of life
is the return. It's
the brief arc of a butterfly,
fluttering not quite high enough,
then coming back. It's like
a passage of Beethovan
with its final note
dying on the string.

Wednesday, July 12, 2017

Death of Releasers

Nobody's
beautiful anymore.
I found out
every body feels
about the same.
So what's all
the fuss about reality?