Where Ideas go to be Self-Published and then die

Friday, December 11, 2009

Revisions

So I had to revise a bunch of stuff for a portfolio, and rather than create a separate entry for each poem, I figured I'd group them together and present them as one unit. I will say this: most (or all of the poems) aren't finished at all, but I had to turn something in. Oh yeah, and I worked on these revisions two hours before the portfolio was due, so adjust your expectations accordingly.

Revision in KUTZTOWN, PA 19530

The KUTZTOWN UNIVERSITY BOOKSTORE

has made its presence known

in the middle of a Nathaniel Mackey poem.

Who to blame?

The SALES CASHIER: JEN,

the one who sold

01 HOOVER/POSTMODERN AMERICA for 26.95

SUBTOTAL (TOTAL)

on 1/30/07 10:39.

She must have known,

the intuition of fingers

when she had slipped the sales slip—

“PROUDLY SERVING YOU”—

into Ghede’s speech

that she had performed a service

of national merit

in restoring the lost

middle page of Mackey’s poem.

I cannot see now

how Ghede’s mantra

“what does all this loving make?”

would ever ring true

without that slip.

Without that slip,

Ghede chants himself down either page,

his hands holding onto his own

bent elbows touching

the exact same pair

on an opposite side.

For years it slept,

tucked into Mackey’s sheets

for Ghede to hold again.

There are Enough Good Enough Things

Don’t eat alone.

Eat with a friend.

Watch, they’ll say....

Oh, you have class?

Well, sometime later.

Talking with your parents is not a friendship.

The alone by-yourself gestures of desperation.

Use your computer for something worthwhile.

What email would come? You Sourpuss.

Looking at pornography—Sourpuss—

is condemning yourself to a mossy life in a well.

Don’t talk to yourself you already know what you will say because you are the one saying it.

Chatter is unsettling,

empty.

If on the beach you will find happiness on the next wave in.

Stop writing things down.

Removing the English language from your working memory

will make you happier by making it harder

for you to articulate just how alone you feel.

If you have no language, you can start screaming.

Coffee?

Coffee?

Do you want coffee?

Let’s get coffee?

Oh, I see.

No one wants coffee?

Drink tea then.

Hyperventilate while saying the rosary.

Rapture in a gift box.

Don’t sigh.

There is no guilt in expressing relief that your life is almost over.

The year of his death

after John Wieners


In 1967 Wieners's lover left him and went to Europe with a mentor of his, but not before aborting his child first.

– “John Wieners Papers,” University of Delaware Library


It came quickly,

an unruly collection

blinking and unblinking.

It never cared

for staring. Hanging

outside the reach of

this afternoon. I wondered

how the dull light, piercing

as arrows found

me today. Full of

mistakes. I mumbled

my prayers. I kept

St. Sebastian, tethered

and pious, in mind:

how the shafts

disrupt the stretch

marks on his

sacred gut. Those angry,

red fingers, like

ripples from a pebble

dropped into his

belly button wishing

well by a sleep

deprived child.

Most in the pews act

like they are not clearly

aroused by their secrets,

even as their pants shake.

To clear my

mind, I remembered

the breath of the children

of the future,

and what it will

remind me of, the acidic

poisons in my night

sweat, and the confident sex

appeal of pilgrims lying

through yellow teeth.

Select Comfort

These are the nights I

appreciate my

new queen-sized mattress

and the rituals

involved

in sleeping

next to another.

At first, I wanted

guidelines,

directions.

What about nightmares,

tossing and turning,

endless bickering?

Easily enough

they became steps in

a nightly

routine:

you lie next to me,

we pretend to sleep

until it happens,

we do not have sex

unless we want to.

Sympathetic to

the truce we make when

we undress, and brush

our teeth, wash heavy

faces. The hygiene

of self and other—

examination—

judgments forgotten

when you turn the light

in the bathroom off

and slip under the

covers that hold me,

house us like orphans.

This is our retreat

from stress

and pressures,

my weakness lying

next to your body.

Our hearts

listening

for the other’s beat

while our body heat—

exoskeleton

fills in-between space.

Light breaths harmonize

yet not in tandem.

Shut eyes imagine

how we now appear:

tired,

unguarded

graven images

softly releasing

domestic incense.

Your body might sink

into the mattress,

leaving nothing but

bones for my desperate

hands to rummage through

to rub together

The friction of lust

pulverizes them.

The gray dust of you

covering my hands.

I have never felt

such skin

like parchment.

Forgive me for that

rude comparison

to preserved calf skin.

Don’t think of yourself

as the sacrifice,

you,

the offering.

Followers