Now

Then..., what of it?
It just passed, is over, is always
The future, is six months from
Used to be flying cars and fear of
One-world government
Is a fractured nuclear age, is the deli coffee
I drink, café-outpriced
Makes me feel like
An old man of twenty-seven
...elderly adolescent.
It matters if I do or do not
For anyone can try anything.
I'm done
For...

Aspirin For An Aching River

if there is feeling more pronounced I must
         know it
for now it evades and, frankly,
         I doubt
it’s my most fulfilling enterprise
to gain from the plenty of persons near
and yet the right person never near
still I sit alone to read, reclined
as blood drains out my lifted legs
         ‘til I can’t stand
and tea goes cold
though when the nerves return
reheat the kettle without stumbling and drink
to the sirens outside
my window always open
even in dead of winter,
needing to feel that chill breeze
         on my feet

Untitled (Static Fragments part VI)

I recognize you in the print,
framed and boxed and closeted
to hang unbecoming whispers,

it was always –who?- so it sits
back boxed and closeted. You’re not
really there, you’re behind, but

I know what went on along
the paths through the reeds and sea
oat and sumac. How many burned

out carcasses did we count
for posterity; thieves’ getaway
landfill sculpted from another

man’s sunken treasure. Robert
Moses never met a golden calf he could
not leave his name upon but this

brackish arm meandering a warm
November? It’s a long bus ride and
a longer hoof-it to find your way out

there so no, I’ve yet to make it back.