LEXICON
these are
the alien words
that signify me
express
me completely,
capture who I am
in a whole different tongue
exquisite in
their orthography,
impossible to pronounce
symbols of something
I have not located, would
appear to escape me
somewhere out there
a description, definition,
so resonant
it is
the answer to my identity,
every question
ever asked
KASPI
Ah!,
those pieces
are starting to open up
becoming a lot more
friendly to me
the squares, too,
are starting to show me things,
teach me
how this dance
is done
pulling back the veil until
I see them, find them,
those
secret patterns, hidden
pathways
how it all
meshes together as
a perfect machine
Oh
now for the first time
I embrace that temptation
to sacrifice time and
material
seeing what this game
of games unlocks
to what heights
it takes me
honoring the memory
of Kaspi, my one-eyed, bicolor,
feline best friend,
named after that author
who so cogently argued for
the intimate
connection between chess
and life
with all the persuasiveness
of a great world champion.
IF I DIE IN MY SLEEP
if I die in
my sleep
don’t wake me
for snoring
hit me
for infractions against
every law and
regulation
appertaining to
the silence of the dread
as I am
dragged through the streets
off to
inquisitional court
ROARING TRADE
master poetry
in 28 days
a poem
every ten
minutes
start
haiku first
graduate
to sonnet
soon
you will have
authority in
your voice
sensational
articulation
be the deadly most
dangerous
person
in the room
office
guru
and celebrity
loved by both low
and high
if they weren’t
so seriously afraid
just 28 days
from image
to metaphor
to rip-roaring trade
AT THE TIME
we
were always
in a different time
zone
perhaps even
epoch
but then again, maybe
it was all down
to me entirely
light years away from anyone
in my own nebula
or just
high above, if not
deep below
the surface
of this planet
(who knows?, perhaps
both
at the same time)
fifty years whizzing past
each other, never colliding,
not even
a glancing blow
destined for
bigger things, battering our
ways quite
independently into
populated planets
as if
radar guided, as if
beautifully synchronized,
exactly timed
AND ALL THAT
I was present
at the funeral of the dead Universe,
not a pallbearer
but did bring flowers
(obviously not there
at its birth)
was sure
they would let me
give a little speech
but was assured
I wasn’t
important enough, and
being a sort-of poet
would be
bound
to get the tone wrong,
if not break into
rap, or, heavens forbid, song
and so
my bubble burst,
disappointment expanding
at the speed of light
I found a fulcrum, place
to stand, and lever
spent all of eternity
dissing the hell out
of everything, everyone
that somehow
found themselves forced into
or openly deciding
to love badly, and
be loved badly back.
LET US
Let us
not talk
let us
just listen
hear what
everything
is telling us
all those soft, soft voices
and those
that
are impossibly loud.
CONCRETE
poem in the mirror
poem
underwater
poem hitting
the ground running
poem
smashed into
concrete
p i e
c
es
a ll
ove
r
the
p
lace
CAMILLE
saw you hanging out
at the Mad Hatter’s party
with Madame Ferocity
your girl
I believe, after you
gave us the lowdown,
told us her true story
or was it
more like home turf for you
the two of you
wearing matching aprons
sinking strong, dark
Italian roast
espresso after espresso?
there in some Sicilian cafe
bristling with costa nostra, being
their regular haunt?
Then,
her back being turned,
you tried to (brigand
that you are) sell me the line
that this Amherst spinster
be some
daughter of
Dionysus
making so persuasive a case
in usual heavy artillery style
that was easily seduced
(how could I not be?)
dragged along
pointedly and
pitilessly
for the ride
BOTTLE
this poem.
is irradiated
that poem
is irradiated too,
it says
so on
the bottle
helps them
I suppose, can
only presume
negotiate the mechanics.
of speaking
truth
to power.
being shining examples
of all that light can
achieve
when a billion years
of concentrated matter
is turned
into energy
in one
billionth
of an hour
poems 2 die for