Thursday, April 30, 2009

Social Class in North America

You say "dinner"
when I say "supper"
and "dine"
when I say "eat."

Am I unworthy
of the better things?
I want
all those fine words
for myself.


He wants to
give her something,
reaches among his
used poor things
choosing one
that has the right name.

The box doesn't fit
and it belonged
to someone else, long gone
who didn't like it.
He thinks she might
for a dark uncritical moment.

Here is something poor
he says, holding out
the necklace with jade beads.

Sunday, April 26, 2009

Consequences of Flood

Magic would not revisit the world.
After the flood recedes
and everything is dead,

even the Author
will be bound
by laws of His writing.

It's a high price to pay we say,
bodies buried under the sand,
and the loss of magic.

Thursday, April 23, 2009

Ghost Movie

The barely audible stirrings
human ears are unlikely to catch
but do, cause trouble. We don't like
what we are not supposed to hear,

troubling noises that
make us create theories
to contradict what
we are supposed to know.

All agree that the world
is how it is,
we all say in
a flurry of nodding.

We listen in terror as
our certainty leaks,
the faith that
glues us together breaks.

we ask to wish it away.
But it comes back more certainly than before.
And the music makes a crash. That's what scares us.

Wednesday, April 22, 2009

Paralysis of Discarded History

The people in the next booth
talk like they entirely assume.
They are doubt-less.

I envy them, have every doubt,
past changed from
triumph into weakness.

Without a history, I am only proud of my pretensions.
I pretend proudly, would doubt less
if my pretensions were real.

Sunday, April 19, 2009

The Discovery of Defeat

I am safe
and not hunted.
The enemy has
already had his revenge,
but I cringe in the fortress.

An army of bad deeds
climb the barricades,
sounding trumpets.
I beg for rescue while
my own soldiers are
in full mutiny.

Tuesday, April 14, 2009

To Alice Wickenheiser

When I first started kissing
I didn't know what
a human being is.

While we were in the movie
I caressed your hand.
You were not dear to me
I just rose to your rank.

I remember the groping with chagrin
even now; up your skirt in the car
as I kissed you. It was curiousity
and the beginning of a perverse life.

You wore wool tights,
said you enjoyed holding my hand
but not kissing me.
You were kind.

Monday, April 13, 2009

Memorium for Dead Spiders

Wednesday, April 08, 2009

Medical headline

Go to sleep
my Kaylee
I want your heart.
The tiny eyes stay open,
dark domes over sparkles.

This is the time to play daddy.
Standing around her
eyes bent in confusion,
sleep and death
last and first.


It's warmer
a haze of nose stuffs
an unfulfilled sneeze
poetry materialized
and someone has
thrown hands over my eyes.

Thursday, April 02, 2009

The Bond Artiste

Without so much
as a smile
he delivers
thing after thing
and his audience
numbed by numbers
shakes heads
and put down their martinis.

He is grim,
this humorless cartoon man.
But he is strong.