Category: poetry

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11/19/90

I

Allen: Wow!

(shows Grace pictures excitedly)

Grace: Why don’t you buy it?

Allen: I’ve got no money.

Grace: So, why don’t you buy it—If you like it so much, why don’t you buy it?

Allen: You don’t understand.

(puts down book)

II

Father: Don’t touch that, it’s dirty.

(Son puts down snail that he’d tried to pick up before father intervened)

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III

(Allen enters Grace’s house, to meet her parents)

knock knock

Allen: Is anyone home

Hugh: Come right in boy, come right in!

(Hugh sits in easy chair, cleaning 12 gauge shotgun)

Allen: What’s that?

Hugh: Why, it’s my new Mossberg 500, bright and shiny. You like it? I got it on sale from Gun Mart, it’s a real beaut!

Allen: Oh.

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Heddy: You here already? Well, lets get a look at ya. Oh, jus’ as I imagined! Oh, Hugh, look, he’s almost as handsome as you were when you were his age. Lemme get a picture.

(Grace’s mother) (enters drying bacon grease from hands, on apron) (She snaps a polaroid and returns to kitchen) Grace is nowhere to be seen.

Hugh: Sit down boy, sit down, lets have a talk, son, man to man.”

Allen: (sits) OK.

Hugh: You wanna beer, you look like a beer, Hey Heddy, where’s your manners? Get this boy a beer!

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Allen: Uh, uh, okay, I guess.

(Heddy enters w/ frozen can of Bud Light)

Heddy: Oh, wouldn’t look at ‘im, oh I knew Gracie would do good someday) (just look Hugh, the picture of manhood, such a big handsome boy.

Allen: Why, thank you Mrs. Blaskowitz

Heddy: Did I tell ya ’bout when Gracie was a little girl?

Allen: Why no, Mrs. Blaskowitz

Heddy: When she was a little girl, she used to love, to smell things, everything. I remember she used to carry around a little piece a’ sharp cheddar cheese in her pocket, jus’ so she could take it out an’ smell it, anytime she wanted. She was such a pretty little girl!

Voice! (from next room): Oh God no, no, no!

(Dull thud heard in upstairs room)

11/19/90

The old man said:

“I remember, I am

one’ biker girls, dat

used to pick up beer

bottles and crate

for us, no hands,

no hands.”

He demonstrated

“See!”

He squatted down

till both legs

bent at 45° angles

at the knees, then

slowly straightened,

grinning

“See!”

11/18/90

Should I kiss you

with my eyelids?

Just to show you

how much I care?

11/14/90

Somedays it’s hot all around the world, The sun burns its little inchworm pixels into my skin.

I don’t have a camel To take me across the desert, I don’t have gasoline, my camel drank it all.

I don’t have a housewife To clean my house, I don’t even have a saxophone to annoy The upstairs neighbors,

I just have my ass, To sit in a bright blue room,

I wonder if my life Is a clerical err, born a pharaoh, or just another son Of God and civil servants, Did they forget the certificate, my social security number, I’ve forgotten it, Then the lady cries like Mohammedan soothsayer From minaret, “Next.”

“I remember you,” said the old lady, Modern blasphemy, four years old, pissing in my shrubbery.

“My how you’ve suffered,” I said to her

11/13/90

Benny looked up from

his hands, crying

“I’m just a nice

person, I don’t mean any harm,”

he said,

“We know, Benny, we

know.”

11/5/90

Two trains collide

They said that four

passenger died,

miraculous,

I don’t care, I put

down the paper.

“Hello class” (they do

not listen) “Mr. Shecky

could not be here today.

Just give me a hot

cuppa coffee in

my Christmas mug

11/5/90

Sometimes she’d scream in the middle

of the blue-brown afternoon

“Dazz, Dazz, Dazz, Dazz,”

Then she’d type some-more,

11/5/90

There’s nothing

To do here

Sh_t gets stuck

To my shoes

This soil not

mixed with

The ash of

My ancestors

It was time

To begin, you

can’t package

That, give it

Back, f_ck

Off, sorry.

An Ode to Bruce Lee

and other stories

I coughed twice —

then remember.

When Arnold was

a boy his father gave

him a road-cone. He

said:

“I’ve got something

to show you. Come.”

He took his hands

out of his pockets

and opened the door

for his boy.

“Look,” he said

“there, by the car!”

It was a red, shiny

road-cone. Maybe it

was a bit scratched and

scraped, but it was

practicly new. Little Arnold’s

eyes became bright and

greedy.

“I ran it over with

my car this afternoon.

I drove with it under

for two and one-half

hours, all the way

home. You can have it

if you want.”

Little Arnold ran up to

the cone. He sniffed it

with his little brown

nose, and grabbed it

with his little brown

hands,

“Daddy,” he said,

“This plastic is so

soft and rubbery,”

He didn’t have to

say thank you, he ran

inside instead; a new toy.

Lemmy spat.

He watched the flem

spatter against the sidewalk

and sat down on the

front stoop of the house.

Dr. Parsons walked

by.

“Hello Dr. Parsons,” said

Lemmy.

“Hello Lemmy,” said

Dr Parsons, “Found

any work yet?”

asked Dr. Parsons.

“No, not yet, sir.” replied

Lemmy.

“Well, keep trying boy,

I know you’ll find

something somewhere.”

Lemmy was a white

boy, with red hair,

a blue baseball cap,

buck teeth, freckles,

overalls, a crewcut,

too skinny, tall,

brown dusty loafers.

“Bye Dr. Parsons,”

said Lemmy.

“Bye Lemmy,” said

Dr. Parsons.

11/5/90

George had a

vision making

peace making —

Jane screwing

Breaking arrows

Snapping hatchet

Moderating old

irons with

two little Chinese girls

at the same time

watching the

videotape play into

nothing — Oh

shit I’ve got

a paper due!

11/8/90

They cut the sheet

Of short-bread into

square little cookies

Each the same as

The one right next

To it — symmetry

— ah perfection.