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in ten days
we're moving from this
tiny apartment
with its leaky kitchen faucet
& other minor faults
into a 2-story
3-bedroom
house on raspberry street.
before my divorce
& before ann trumpet'd
into my life again
i lived on raspberry street
but uphill,
this house
is older than that
one & downhill.
the street there
inclines
& after the stop-light
train-tracks
& a dangerous
section of erie.
we'll be ok,
we'll be ok,
i keep telling
myself.
think of all
the room.
think of the
great deal
we got.
don't think
of mice & ants.
don't think about
the landlords
dying,
or worse than
that,
either of us.
we'll be fine.
we'll be fine.
down to the jeep
andy, ann's 16-year old
nephew in virginia,
is now the owner of our
buick skylark.
ford taurus we
got from ann's mom,
altho a perfect southern
automobile with very
low miles, caught fire.
engine is fried.
a sad, true story
with ann at the cranberry
exit on the pennsylvania
turnpike
& turnpike guys in yellow
hard-hats
spray
great bursts of gray-white retardation
from quick red extinguishers
then a tow-truck comes
towing the car backwards
some twenty miles.
all a mess.
i swallow
nails.
throat
live
finches.
gulp
at
gooey
raw
egg.
wonder
why
the
story
of jesus
is a tame
movie
with half-way
special
effects --
i think
about
suicides
& shot-guns.
about
crazy
islamic
amerika-
haters.
i am
filled
with
empathy.
i am
thankful
to have
electricity,
but what
about the
poets in baghdad
who cldn't afford
the cost of electricity
if they even had it?
don't fuck with me
i'm a poet.
i'm a writer.
i'm a middle-age man
who takes lipitor
for high cholesterol
who has had TWO
colonoscopies
& who must have
one every five years
who needs xanax
to chill his enflame'd brain
who needs remeron
to store feelings
of sanity in the center
of his mind
who loves ann
tho she richocets
richocets
what?
what's that you say?
who wears
a mutating face
a mutating poet
wears a mutated
face
big beer belly
sore bow'd-
legs
hardly any
teeth
big ball of a
cyst on
my upper back
but doc
says
don't worry
about
it.
prayer
karma clean us
karma make sunshine
gray
karma push hot sun
away into other heavens
karma gleam
karma whisper poems
we'll never hear
inside our ears
karma catch our
weaknesses
our screaming
crying
weaknesses
karma don't baby us
karma show
what's real
what's the way
to go
karma guide
our
stumbling
mannerisms
karma take
hold of
our shoulders
hard
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