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PLAYED JAZZ VIOLIN LIKE AN
OUT OF TOWN JUNKIE

He played down to nerve
twisting himself in sound;
played from his gut; dead screams

rumbling underground
speared into trees;



he played to free himself,
played with the soul of his mind


of his flesh,


in the sweltering night
licking ice cream crowd
he played like he had no time left
like a junkie, using his bow like his sex;
the Man supplying his own fix.
Arching, hips forward


desire without object


he curved high around each note;
hitting bottom
played like he had no skin;
like no cool New Yorker ever would.



CITY, THAT PROMISES ME

City of bartering hearts
that feeds me,
the down-comfort hunger
I snuggle into; city
I can't find my way out of.

Survived in cafes,
and warm body conversations,
some man's eyes
in my pants, promising,
always promising.

No one there if
you're sick or frightened.

City that offers
a choice of deaths
on every subway ride
staves off death,
that orgasmic promise I fear
as much as any serial killer.

Yet, afraid, am afraid,
when someone more than
just clothes-off naked
straight mouths his
hard-on lust, and
bone shocks me
out.