24. the ghost of electricity howls in the bones of her face

what i want to say...

something

the lights flicker

but i remember

it's been said

and done

and better

some something

some Johanna

apparently not here

wherever the hell

that was

i think line and form

all fading

down

over

all into one

meaning something less

than nothing

a form

a shape

still a something

yes

and ok sure

but really

is it worth

really anything at all?

"a poem

is like a naked person"

and yeah

again

ok sure

but one naked

and drunk

running

round

rooftops

screaming blasphemies

just to hear

its own voice

inspiration

that's the hard part

and holy communion

with the saints

of fermentation

of distillation

will only take one

so far

i look on these

bouquets that surround

flowers and bitters

bottles and books

natural and man-made

intelectual, divine

all inspiration

all no never

no not quite enough

and the sleep

it catches up

early morning hours

awoken by sobs

by sadness

by need of secure

by desire

for something more

and all this

these things i know

seen in another

so very hard

to take in

simply stated

a why

is it enough?

the marble salvage

the smallest touch

that makes

all the difference?

and how do i

make it

a something more

from so little a thing?

how can i?

why would i?

even dare

a poem a day

harder than it sounds

nevermind

reality

the poetry

is everywhere

and simply

just waiting

hoping

to be found

23. poem for the boss when he shows up at the other job and gets gloriously drunk

i'm a grown ass man

and i drink brown liquor

22. east village #2

mundane

late night

small talk

walking down first ave

shewaslike

and ohmygod

really

youknow?

and the whole time

walking blocks

behind the two

she of

the she and

the he

was wearing no pants at all

21. addendum to poem #20

did i just see

that guy?

you know

the dirty one

that guy

who sings

for that band

the strokes?

20. the other, other side of the 1943 program

a neighborhood of people

who make ten times

my own income

and yet

pay the same

in monthly rent

19. but have you?

light change

but oh so heavy

after back

from 75¢

shit pen

a bodega roll

back to

brits and

brit music

"we just

got engaged

tonight"

had to

ocean cross

fo that shit?

ha, ain't

necessity

but really

ain't shit

sorry bout that

y'al look oh

so lovely

you lot

please forgive

dark corner

sittin

beer and shot

drinkin

bitter cynic

"can i see

some id please?"

this the kind

a place

strangers

stagger in

nearly missin

bouncer id check

but they's

always comin

back to hearty

laugh and flash

light click

cause this

the LES

c'aint be

none too

careful bout

that sort

a thing

and it is here

that i ask you

have you even

been

to New York City?

have you walked

its majestic

unnecessary streets?

bodega clad

coffee in bag

cigarette street

walkers

waving you in

pushing you

back and then

pulling back

in again

a phone check

(cause i can

do that now)

tells me

nonsense

to go home

sweet sweet

home

i'll just go

the way i've

learned

the way

i know

through trains

track crossin

down over

just a little

bit around

past murder story

tellin cigarette

makin up to

elderly folk

infirm tryin

to get inside

and it is here

that i ask you

have you even

lived

in New York City?

18. this, the never changing flux

without what

no that's not

nothing

but rather

and only perhaps

something

and yet...

fine wine piss beer

each and all between

fermentation distillation

not to mention

sublime negation

sliding folding slipping

down deeply sweet

embrace soothing

touch and always

a nothing but first

always something

i walk in search

of well stocked bar

not consumption

but construction

though the former

is without question

part of the fun

a touch more

as i think about

the neighborhood

surrounding

vast land

of similar difference

how can i

ever own

even know

not to mention

show my parents

shifting plates

block by

block by

block turning

into something

new every corner

i turn

perhaps and only

necessity not choice

except those who've chosen

yes i know

there are some

but mostly and

but-what-the-hell-do-i-know

a need

for this that surrounds

decides what is

and what will not

without what

no that's not

nothing but

rather and

only perhaps

yes certainly

something

17. finire aeternus eternus

gut pain like death pulling down falling thank god for empty bar nothing going fuck this early leaving

walk it off cab home find the bed before dawn breaking sleep inching relief blessed coming

wake up to doorbell ringing strangers spanish speaking no lights fixing oh but now strangely working

tomorrow set a dread hanging lingering pregnant with and hoping best decent anything something

16. unfinished cabbie poem

rico said yes

to me

to brooklyn

to decent tip

to sympathetic ear

but then again

rico said

a lot of things

15. alstroemeria

work over

flowers in hand

(that deli

ain't good for much

but the flowers

are somethin' else)

first ave

a cigarette walk

to catch a cab

train's cheaper

but someone at home

works early

and then

like well timed

punchline

pink shirt

smile

a hand

"hey sexy"

i think

he just slapped

my ass

14. laurel wreath, fasces, name set in stone

i have always

called it community

or respect

from those

i admire

those

"that know"

pretending

a humble success

but in truth

what is wanted

accolades

praise

adoration

from anyone

who will pick up

carry on shoulders

a schoolyard hero

friends

romans

countrymen

lend me your ears

before the good

whatever may be

as so oft is

be interred

with my bones

13. no, this is not, in fact, guatemalan rum

a box of plates

new

well

not so new

not really

but the good stuff

and much needed

though not

so needed

they would have been

paid for

but free?

yeah

i'll take that

12. a fucking train or... fucking A train

you give up

all hope lost

this mother

fucking train

will never arrive

you switch tracks

make new plans

choose to walk

fucking train

finally arrives

11. lost new york

smoke floats

ice clinks

a tie

the knot

impeccable

10. poem for second job

in dawn's daylight creep

i sit spent

exhausted

proud

of work well done

9. te deum

cold beer

slice of pie

at workday's end

the tedium of hours

gently fading softly

becoming nothing

becoming new

sanctus

sanctus

sanctus

8. untitled

for the record...
she got on
after me
sat down after
and the seat next to
asked directions
left headphones off
as if wanting
someone to talk

had i noticed
while platform standing
not so far?
well...
of course
how could i not

and so we talked
on travel and jobs
mundane first meeting
conversational nicety
oh did i mention
she was french?

foreign girl
limited time
met by chance
...i've been here
before and yet
i've been here before
have been
am no more

coming home to
mexican food
good cheap beer
and brief quiet
then roommates
showing up
with nicer beer
with smelly cheese
and with talk
about both

and then...
there she is
sleepy eyed
just woken
dark brown curl
falling down
settling in
to spend the hours

and you can think
it's all about luck
and it's all about
serendipity
and believe me
there's both
and plenty of
but...
i've never been
here before and i
wouldn't have it
any other way
because any other
way would be
something less

7. love song for an apartment #23

fighting in french
three seats apart
on manhattan bound trains
manic eyed children
lobbing snappers
like final grenades
firing air horns
to the beat of unknown
internal rhythms
times square a circus
too complex
to comprehend
first rain
after real storm
breaking heat
setting us free

and i think back
toward golden palace
what might have been
what could have
what almost was
in otherness set
apart only so
much over and
yet so far
its near to front
holy space
its stretched
spine and sun
eyed radiance
its utterly unreasonable
nature

and i look around
at this rusty red
what might have been
what we had
what we have become
in middle of world
otherness set inside
ever so much
and yet so far
its near to front
necessary space
its crooked
spine and marble
eyed solidity
its utterly unreason
able nature

and like this
city surrounding
imperfection not some
vision of ideal
but rather its
true existness
in and of
itself and what
we make of it
pieced together
with plastic bolt
poverty curtain
and cast away chair
raised up from ashes
made every moment
something new

6. the books have nothing to say

words sneaking creeping onto out from slippery page to page growing greening gaining a hold on never quite getting and these are things the things i'm after? before? turning pages hoping yes helpless to answer thinking wrapped up in and up into waiting for hoping... for something? anything really but really nothing and nothing at all

5. whispering secrets into a heart

he said i was too happy
i laughed and told him
i hide it well

a man leaves his woman
for so many reasons
but mostly
he's not in love

a couple fights
because no matter
how well he dresses
he still gets no respect

a woman calls
his number but
no one answers
she's not surprised

a couple waits
after it's over
pretending it's something
it will never be

he said i was too happy
i just laughed
and laughed and laughed and laughed

4. east village where the shit piles up

a thicker skin
is what's needed
for this city
for any
city really

when they
give you shit
it's only
because they
like you

when they
fight in the street
they don't
give a shit
about you

a thicker skin
is what's needed
but it's better
to discern
shit from shit

3. poem for the bartenders, for those that move

when the boss arrives
to find you waiting
for the key
the one you lost
when you left your last place
(keys in the fridge
the place your super
thought so safe)
it's a bad idea
to be drunk
naked
watching porn
it's probably best
to be watching
pbs

2. short poem for new apartment, though ultimately not so short

roaches
that's the first thing
thirty six bottles beer
four bottles wine
two bottles whiskey
three people
two weeks
but there was that hurricane
so...
you know
ashtrays full
to overflowing
lazy just moved in not quite settled brooklyn apartment
squalor
almost something like...
artist's dream
but really
and like i said
we just moved in
and the furniture
it arrives on monday
and that
will change everything

at least...
somewhat

1. poem about that actress but really about those cooks who didn't notice her

my sincerest apologies
about that
the hollywood starlet
she came
in so quick
got what she wanted
"my friend says
these are the best thing
he's ever tasted"
that's some pressure
i should've called
down
so you could
each and all
ogle on camera
the hollywood starlet
who came in
so quick
got what she wanted
while you
missed out