Postures 2007: #12 from Side Two
"Friends" It is late April and still no leaves I am thirty-one Last night I overheard a man say: Every once in a while you come across someone who is real They have no color It makes no difference whether they are white black or Chinese They are just real The girl he was speaking to and I agreed On the jukebox with my quarter the voice of Don McLean giving us his "Vincent" the frustrations of days old and long What I spell for you is piecemeal and unrhythmic (It is better that way) Some I write in my office some in my apartment some where I am now watching a gopher scurry past and the small brown waves and the chill sentences of the wind and May 12th & its sun watching teenagers atop the lighthouse spread horizontal wondering about the driftwood and my goosepimpled skin and the swallow banking by and the hunting gull shaking the ghost of Whitman-- Are they biting? yelled from a Chevy-- shaking the Bible or Man watching a bronzed grackle bathe itself at the shore leaving discovering again the windless warmth of my car What I spell for you is happenstance selected and rhythmic (It is better that way) There is always too much death I am a small American who wants to play softball Seated now in a brown-black chair we tried to sell but couldn't I listen to Janice preparing supper think that these verses may be a diary may be a letter ask myself What does it matter? scratch the eczema on my scalp stop The air settles Once again I am tired "Okay! it's time to eat!" Later looking at me Janice says "Such pretty red slippers and such a pretty red shirt!" And I think: Such a pretty-- Anyhow a small boy I don't even know V's me and calls "Peace, brother" I V back as we near each other walking the early evening of May 13th Saturday Sitting here naked writing this poem watching the phone waiting for Mark my psyche's divided my psyche encompasses all Simply what I am no less no more Homer Dante Shakespeare me in a moment ofdeath I could slice the world let its blood spurt through the universe and smile and smile Imagination supercedes the farthest star yet is vanquished by the merest atomic particle Whether I meet you on a stairway or meet you by a sign or meet you in a California stream I meet you where you are
------- Brian A. J. Salchert
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