a montage type poem

more 92-95 stuff. a montage poem, sorta in a semi-prose mode.

a warmer day today. more like autumn than early winter, which is what yesterday was like.



SEVERAL JOURNEYS TO DIFFERENT CITIES AT VARIOUS TIMES

1
star spangled sunrise
captured a cache of sunlight in her laughter
shuffled marked cards knowing the deck had no nines
- laid the warn cards face down upon a Naugahyde table
turned the ace of hearts from the pile pile as she watched saying :you need the nine of clubs for the ten of diamonds."
- knowing there were no nines
her laughter as a ray of sunlight through windows curtain in black clouds - soggy to the touch

2
no father poet waiting in the rain to escort me to the journeys end
the wind chewed discarded manuscripts
& the soggy skies sucked on the exhaust pipes of giant factories

i stood in the shadows of a garbage bin counting pennies as the priest passed
no souls to this tuesday
he danced across puddles
i thought i could hear laughter dripping from her rosary beads
surely it was a time of miracles but i was distracted by the aroma of hookers behind the bus terminal

3
ate the cardboard pie with a plastic smile
thought of a warped samuel pepys as i attempted notes of significance in a journal that had none
fumbled through greeting post card & bubblegum trading cards in the lobby
read month old magazines with coupons clipped except the Rosicrucian were still looking for a few good men
gave the waitress smelling of southern comfort a dollar tip that was worth a whole dime

4
studied coffee stains in the upholstery
studied the sound of rain on a plastic green patio roof
- goldfinches in the rhododendrons - elegant as carl sandburg

steamed carrots fresh from a square foot garden
wild turkey mash
on a broken coffee table four books of spanish poets murdered in the civil war to free all men from such a simple thing as tyranny

blind lemon jefferson from a scratchy record

studied the liner notes smelling of tobacco certain it was everyones biography
studied the sleeping corner of the sofa with a resolved placidity
- & wondered if the great father poet that not not come to escort me worked within such disadvantages