IV. A Gram of &s

IV. A Gram of &s

gander

gander

When the girl near
you uncrosses her legs, you glimpse a garden

over the Nabokov you’re read-
ing. In the time it takes to slow drag your aged
& steadily aging eyeball from one corner to another, a gear
rolls onto the dance floor of the heart’s grand
hotel. Blood begins to sluice & rage

in the cells & rooms & closets until you are reduced to a grade-
school blush. All the questions you wouldn’t dare
ask. It must be the book: Humbert’s danger-
ous poison passion. Dear you mutter. Dear. Dear. O Dear.

general

general

The eager-
ness of a man the War doesn’t near.

A leer
straight out of the John Wayne genre.

An eagle
blazing on his brim & breastplate, his useless battle gear.

If he’s not there, how will his men learn
the eighty-four methods used to turn anger

into the angle
of light on a blade? Into the Angel

of Light on a blade? Into a gnarl & glare?

masculine

masculine

The word some dudes claim came
first. Delved from the plus & minus
system God used to slice
open Himself. Or the smile
of old deacons in the Amen
corner during the part of the Easter Musical
where Mary Magdalene has to clean
the feet of Jesus to beat a stint in Hell. And the malice
in the Angel of Mercy. And the mean
streak in your father’s work belt. The gram of vein & muscle
that tipped Babylon’s scale.

nuclear

nuclear

How to make a nation say, uncle.
In other words: how to rule.
We learn
there will be no clue
before it happens. No clear
sign from the Cosmos. A clan-
destine airplane will appear wrapped in the lace
of a black dream. Then a flash like an ulcer
bursting in God’s gut. Citizens who goggle & race
about the city as the sky becomes a caul-
dron. The bones burn clean.

overseas

overseas

I traveled so far west it became east again, over
the mountains & through the woods until mountains rose
again. I knew no one & knew no one would save
me. I learned to savor
the soft pink flesh of fish & listen to the odd verse
whispered by my stooped eaves
dropping neighbor, a shy woman obliged to serve
green tea from a stout yellow vase.
All the squatting made my knees sore.
I moved with the ease
of an ink stain on a white kimono in a skin I couldn’t erase.

preface

preface

Well, ain’t your mouth a pretty little pace
maker. And mmmm that tongue is a carp
I’d sure like to harpoon! We could eat crêpe
suzettes in the dim café
below your hypothalamus. I’d pull the last pear
from the pear tree. We could peer
over the ridge of your throat or creep
down the ladder until we reached the reef.
But before setting forth, you should accept whatever’s free
because, Baby, I’ve got at least an acre
of desires you can reap.

repaid

repaid