belongs to another species about
which I hesitate to comment –
homo scientificens, marked by a
grasp of quantum mechanics, similarity
of juvenile to adult, ability
to teach physics, almost Vulcan
logical and problem-solving skills;
blessed with sapientia too –
a widower, two boys, deeply engaged
in life’s complexity and splendor
we speak about travel
we think about the land
weightless and exotic he needs
something for which to care
right will take him places
maybe to the beach where
he can warm his feet
why can’t he just look the other way?
why can’t he just play the other game?
adapted from “Evil,” Interpol Antics
you know I’m not the
only one to have one
(or more) experience of wrestling
drunk half-clothed all hands
and tongue and crotch (no
brain) in bushes at the
party with a nice boy
Catholic respectful shy – weird to
have no courtesies – hellos, goodbyes –
beyond that furtive midnight groping
when you know a poet,
know her milestones as poem
by poem the thirtha of
her book is built, the
story of her saint, the
dots, splash play of language,
tales of Jackson Heights, her
bhujangasana – it’s hard to meet
her eyes, accept her kindnesses –
can she read my secrets?
all three sisters tall blonde
maybe motherless, raised on
New England milk that’s probably
bewitched – one’s hair was silk
and one’s was string and hers
was straw – their story lacked
for nothing but the plot,
the prince, the price of
envying the hair of others
whether outside family or within
tall dark angular and sehr
amusing at 8 a.m. five
days a week you taught
intensive German und so weiter
in this gemütliches Beisammensein
(collective sleepy trance) lulled by
your words your verve your
energy drawn by something
I now recognize as liebe even
though ich habe keine Deutsch
she’s in Arizona now asks
for visits but I released
her fully to the muse
of dryness mountain lightning fire
canyon ears still buzzing with
her stories fingers bristling with
her plans wonder what would
happen if we let it –
alone – I’m waiting in the
zen effulgence of this coast