How History Affected Me
History has been merciful to me
by ignoring my existence
my street was never occupied
and most violence was domestic
I never really had to fight authorities
least not official ones, the bullies were inside.
Poetry Exercises III
(divergent poem, after listening to Captain Beefheart’s Hey Garland, I Dig Your Tweed Coat)
Give me back my heart, you loony
the hapless sprout from a fairytale-clout
clobbered him from underneath a spider’s house
the words of a God scented through the thick curtain overthrown by Jesus-deep nothingness
his belly ached like belly’s lead
torn smiling like a headmaster’s stress-pain
she was a grandmaster in her icy skull-laked naked saviouress
people peopled jazzy chested chess-games in the open sun
he barfed hairy seizures fit open into a one-cloud mind
leave this holy mind of mine, he mimed
give me back my heart you fool
you loony
give me back my heart, you tune
Poetry Exercises II
Pantoum (abcdbedfegfhgcha)
Night
The fridge again, with a rattling shake
ending the humming one-sided conversation
sends me back to the city’s distant quiet voice
in this too big bed, every dream gets overcrowded
Ending the humming one-sided conversation
I wake up paralysed
birds of prey were planning to ravish me
in this too big bed, every dream gets overcrowded
if only my funeral would be as well attended
I wake up paralysed
birds of prey were planning to ravish me
the morning paper slams through the door
if only my funeral would be as well attended
perhaps this night’s riddles will inform the day’s vertigo
The morning paper slams through the door
sends me back to the city’s distant quiet voice
perhaps this night’s riddles will inform the day’s vertigo
The fridge again, with a rattling shake.
Poetry Exercises I
(10×10)
Again, the cold September wind has swept itself to us
Little specks of brown and orange herald winter’s icy drought
Turning green of tree and bush back to autumn shade
Moving all that summer’s blossom in our heart had stirred
To the drafty spaces upstairs we thought for good abandoned
Tipsy and suddenly out of balance, we decide to dance
Heads still numbed by warmth of days that felt eternal
Hands tentatively rising into air – already carrying next season’s seeds –
Dance to this slow rhythm that summoned us back home
Throw off the burden of harvests that started last spring.
(10×7)
Again, cold September wind swept to us
Specks of brown herald winter’s icy drought
Turning green of tree to autumn shade
Moving all that summer’s blossom had stirred
To the spaces upstairs we thought abandoned
Out of balance, we decide to dance
Still numbed by warmth that felt eternal
Hands rising into air – next season’s seeds –
Dance to this rhythm that summoned us
Throw off the harvests started last spring.