After I read
I prop myself up on a book
and try to write.
Yesterday as I left the BART station
I saw a man acting as if (as we say)
at war with himself, commandeering
without wit, the opposite staircase
by the nightmare of his appearance.
He rocked his knees up in the air
while his ass bounced on the step.
Then his ass and knees were exchanged,
he was reaching for a brown p aper bag
drenched in pinkish red paint.
His hands were layered with it, and
the lower half of his face (except
for a Goyesque smile) gums almost
failing to meet teeth, mouth expanded
like Kronos devouring his children.
The lids of his eyes were full of
patient hope, as they came together
in a baby’s breath. but the latex
drops that covered his arms were as if
he had eaten his hands and the blood
exploded. I couldn’t picture his lungs.
The bag kept getting away from him.
On the step by his side stood a large
spray can diseased with the substance.
I asked myself what should I do with him.
End of the poem
15 random poems
- Down in the valley by Marcin Malek
- Алексей Жемчужников – Ты прав
- Николай Глазков – Быть хочешь постоянно пьяным
- Sonnet 06
- The Judges Of The Little Box by Vasko Popa
- Song—The Birks of Aberfeldy by Robert Burns
- Hugh Selwyn Mauberly (Part I) poem – Ezra Pound poems
- Владимир Высоцкий – Ленинградская блокада
- A Passing Glimpse by Robert Frost
- The Shepherd, Looking Eastward, Softly Said by William Wordsworth
- Notes for Canto CXX poem – Ezra Pound poems
- Какое это счастье – Материнство
- Burning Oneself Out
- On Mr. Gay poem – Alexander Pope
- Николай Гербель – Бокал
Some external links:
Duckduckgo.com – the alternative in the US
Quant.com – a search engine from France, and also an alternative, at least for Europe
Yandex – the Russian search engine (it’s probably the best search engine for image searches).
