Book o’ Verse

Johnny was always starting gangs
but he rarely finished them.

Which explained all those half-formed gangs
hanging around town
looking for Johnny.
Not really sure.

What to do next.

roomward covering
corners
carrying photos of tadpoles
large eyes and feathers and whatnot
while painting the scene with shades of
frog
hopping
feathers
sentiment
burp

wriggle of morning thought.
Something to hold on to. To pull him out. Sharp. He bites–
Hold on! Hold on!
Tight jaw, reeling in,
line stretching, water shake. There’s a
bend and a swing.
with the whole scene
swirling past … Read on Macduff...

Subway ride through a newspaper, flutter
express stop and cooked air at the sports section
with the concrete pressed straight cold against your feet
like there’s no shoe there at all. No shoe to separate
the ligatures that spell out… Read on Macduff...

A red-cabbed rig
flying just above the spires of Golden Gate Bridge.
What the hell — right? A truck, aloft? Sort of lovely
though for the moment, looking around. There’s
a nice stereo and tapes and a bed tucked in… Read on Macduff...

dirty gray, piled high like
handfuls of baby sheep
stacked and teetering.

the air
sharp with cotton candy
drift

that leaps toward
the understanding part.
you can’t hold it back.

a pillow
he’s reaching for it now
to prop up … Read on Macduff...

Forget not the mud caked juice box,
those traces of familiar sweetness locked in
hannukah gelt coin coverings dented
dirtward

next to
a plate or two of shaded eggplant parmigiana.

There was a party here. There were frightened
earthworms. Thunder. … Read on Macduff...

been thinking about
my great-grandfather’s beard.

I can’t compete with that.

Puffy-white sketched
lawyer-still.
Coffee, ironed tablecloths, small spoons.
Not one drop swings
loose.

Cigars for all. Corona de Luxe
smoke drifts
over old Europe squares.
Sons in perfect pose. … Read on Macduff...

driving home late telling my eyes
it’s just about time to open
wide, let in a few headlights
reveal the back
of my head.
clang noises clanging back there
still clanging away let
the headlights
shine on in.

it’s a matter of asking
that tape recorder, are you gonna
spool this? Do you want to take a sec?
hold a sec? paste that moment
across some plastic?
Cuz I don’t wanna let you go, sec.
I want to … Read on Macduff...