DAYS OF VALENTINE
In their faraway land in the year of their death
or on the month of their maiming
they were children
The war there hadn’t ended but mass killing mass
graves had stopped and the war there is a here
What’s mass equal to?
my daughter asks from her upstairs room
I say if you don’t remember it still figure it out
through the units marauding by in the question
I said in their faraway land
in the year of their death
and on that time of the month
they were children good art and good masses
And you and I are a freak show
who might solve the riddle of headaches swallow
the Tylenol sword which would be long
before it’s over-their-counter
So many teenagers look under age
and look well
Get the fuck out I said don’t come back
without a guardian
We are of age the children said we rear bear
siblings arms and I said where where
is your pubic hair and birth certificates
As if pubic hair were all that
as if the cutoff is our Oliver Stone syndrome
The poem says I’m here to praise
the poem says Henry Miller and the plague the poets
whose songs we sing in marches are all dead
And mass is still mass
greater minds and greater failures
and women sneak out of tenderness
to equal rights to units in the machine
First come women and children
second come women and children
third come women and children
and then I wake up
a boy cornered by gunfire
and like the gentle shift
of a water hose on car in driveway
or sprinkler over grass
under a forget-me-not sky
gunfire soaks me and my father
The next day is balanced
declaring its bloodied palms
“Savages”
shouts a doctor in the doctors’ lounge
but I once shocked a man out of fatal rhythm
just before unconsciousness reached him
and it hurt him like hell
I could hear it in his scream
I wake a child up
and trust the world then say
Good morning sweetie
good morning
¤
FORGIVENESS
He was in Iwo Jima
now at home hospice for emphysema
on oxygen with lower-limbs edema
I’m your one and only
Arab Muslim friend I said
He said pour Gold
Label on my grave quench my thirst
through your kidneys first
and laugh and laugh we did
¤
DARK NOTES I
Because you and I were thrown a thorn not a throne
a butterfly bone in the mind
And weather whether smoke
in the rain is awn of the rain or glume for plume
is the truth we tell xanaxed
Beauty is black in the black and roses are deep in the red
but karyotype aside
what one does with the towel
is how one makes cancer history
Hours coming like waves jumping rope
one Mississippi
two Mississippi
¤
DARK NOTES II
What I needed was skin other than that
of a bacteriophage and other than that
mist was falling like a mirage
on Rothko’s chromatography or electrophoresis
I needed a lucency that isn’t a lysis but a list
of ester hints we seat
on neural bulb tips
chocolate there and plums and berries
symphonies of earth extracurricular
A kiss
is free of a people free
of a nation or the discipline of saliva’s substrate
A kiss is bread like bread we kissed
as balcony knives lit our trail
My heart’s a doe’s
a doe’s made for running away
¤