MAIN STR EETS
1
These are the days that must happen to you.
-WALT WHITMAN
I wake from hours of water,
cats screaming for perfection,
the old woman upstairs lowered
into bed by God with a nasal cough
and one good leg. Already
the nearest bar loud with gorillas.
I wake, he wakes, we wake, they.
I would forget this city's name
if I could remember it;
in
three days
Christmas, the world full
of goodwill.
2
Who said longing knew night from day?
Success a tooth that can't be filled,
this morning the sun stabbed me in the back;
fate a horny cowboy undecided
which house to burn, which jaw to break.
Bad signs. Mama,
pour the soup, I'm on my way,
make ready, a new day, believe me,
why should he lie?
....
.)
My front window opens
on Saturday afternoon, drinkers waltz
down Burdick Street, one old father
this noon opened his fly
for an old mother lugging laundry,
she spat at it, Act your age, she said.
