
COFFEE TIME



IF I WERE TO DISAPPEAR
if I were to disappear
on the night of the performance
don’t tell anyone, say
nothing
a big quiet nothing
like Hamlet might say stretching
the bounds of
our understanding, sheer
human appreciation
though so soft
no one on stage with him
in that room of Elsinore,
can (we must
believe) hear a single word
he has been scrtpted to say
No, my dear Thato, just
blow a kiss, all three
of you
blow a kiss
and walk away
knowing I glided through
that fourth wall
like it
was made of silk, cobweb fine
or most diaphanous
and now
I am with King Harry
asking to lead the voward
and so
will get butchered by the French in the
course of the battle
if you have to get butchered
who better than the French
to do it with style
with every cut
every thrust
reciting every great poet
of theirs from Ronsard
to Rimbaud
and me
held in suspense
awaiting the beauty of
their perfect coup-de-gras
or
there you are my Queen
peeling grapes, chewing dates
awaiting your Apollo
your
Roman lion, your Anthony
and we too wedded to ourselves
to smell the ships leaving port
sailing south fat
with legionaries
our deaths
the first act of Empire, suddenly
out of nowhere this
worst of all
glorious phases
in the history
of oppressed humanity
but then
as Puck himself
I return to the stage
at the waking
moment of your Midsummer
dream
craving understanding,
friendship
and forgiveness
see the lights go on
and you
my dear three
and all
around you
simply disappear

HEAD CASE decided today I’m on rock star time feel OK to do so relatively safe will think a few hours come up with a concept for my album go to sleep wake up with all the riffs and chords written in my head
OLD EMBASSY was sleeping in the old Soviet Embassy dreaming of you naked crashing through the wall driving a Sorbonne student, Paris Commune best May Day Parade tank a T-68 I believe, though I stand to be corrected the crumbly modernist structure recoiling under impact looking for all the world on the threshold of collapse and then we made love, parted left the bullding in swopped Che T-shirts swearing undying Comitern Pact exchanging best childhood Cold War finger on the button scary memories such as that ancient Castro Cuban missile crisis alarms blaring holding hands in fear but much secret juvenile love fascination beneath the impenetrable shelter of my school desk