I've begun a study of Greek, and along with my readings in Ovid, this makes for some very strange dreams.


Conventional
(for Kristen)

Last night I dreamed
An all-girl bouzouki band
Came to my house…
They didn’t actually play the bouzouki
They stood at the end of my hall
and sang
The conductor was
Plato and
Demeter played diva
The chorus was sublime
I wanted to sing along
But in the end
I found their skirts
Entirely too short.


(apologies for the inside comment: But somehow I'm reminded of the genius we once knew who was impressed by the fact that his musical idol had never taken a lesson....I,IV,V7 HIKE!)

MICRO/
MACRO:
Life as an Ant










Who wept first,
Niobe or Job?
Same story/different boats/
drifters on a
river of time;
not much to do
when the gods call the shots.
One day they're angry,
next day they're bored;
Lassitude creeps in--
the urge to toss the dice...

Men cry for justice
(as if we ever gave a thought
to the families
of the ants we squash)
Men question/shed tears/
dress themselves in pity/turn to prayer.
The immortals shrug and walk away
--- better things to do---
Eternity looms large,
even in the mind of a god.

Image ~ Oldřich Kulhánek /Job/ lithograph2002

Niobe on the deaths of her children

I wear my sorrow as a favored old coat --
wrapped tightly around me
affording protection from the foolish hopes

of an unconsoled heart.

I hold my grief hostage --
a relentless reminder

of dreams that have died
and of the contrarity of fate.

Gods crumble, nations fall;
I put my trust
in the strength of the desolate womb,
and in an emptiness unfilled
by an ocean of tears.

Closing Pandora's Box

Oh, to be like LouLou--

Tragic combination

of innocence

and allure,

Everyman's dream,

the MadonnaWhore.

Every man--

but not Jack.

He knew the drill--

The good girl

bad girl shuffle--

Jack definitely knew the drill

and it didn't include

tacky vaudeville shows

or shabby cabaret.

A girl can dream

of dancing shoes,

but best not open the box.

Walking the wire

night after night,

in search of an image--

a long lost battle

for self and soul,

Life was killer--

until Jack.

miss ashbery

—for john ashbery

schmoozing with miss ashbery
the future poet laureate—
of the sinking empire of neo…
just ask the nytimes about it,
they know everything about
everybody anyway don’t they?
just ask mr. david kermani—
miss ashbery’s business manager
about the future of beltway
glory and muse deification.
arranged by chance of course—
by pulitzer prize committee
plus harpercollins inc.
we’re meeting this morning
the nobel prize queens say—
the announcement is imminent.
it’s written in the stars above,
you can run but you can’t hide.
the macarthur foundation
certainly agrees: you and i are
suddenly giddy with possibility—
that what walt whitman was
trying to tell us is true:
merely being here now, dears,
means something; that soon
we may touch, love each other,
even get married for gawd’s sake.
no more don’t ask don’t tell—
no more jerry fartwell shit and
such buffoonery surrounded by.
a poetry already filled with style,
a style thru which emerges—
art deco weimar renaissance;
pandora’s box opening up once
again in a new puzzling light.
just ask fritz kortner or
louise brooks, my dear…

An answer to Ovid's Pythagoreus on a vegetarian rant on the nature of nature:


After the Wake

In the morning I'll make a cup of coffee
hot and strong two spoons of sugar
a lovely splash of cream.
I'll drink it in my garden
while I look to see what the night has wrought.
Eggs in the nest now a noisy din
clamoring for the convenience
of a ready chewed feast.
Some unruly cat bolts,
leaves behind a mangled mouse.
Inspect the roses,
lop off their withered heads
Life from Death---
but only for the ruthless.

Adonis II

Listen up Adonis--
Word on the street
you were always
your mamma’s boy
torn from the tree
kicking and screaming
tearing the bark
breaking the heart
of the goddess.

Grow up Adonis--
Word on the street
you got to learn to be a man
your mamma’s tears were wasted
tied up in that tree
no word to pass about those
afternoons in the lap
of the goddess
no way to tell you that
decadence kills.

Heads up Adonis--
Word on the street
you can’t tame the Hog
Aphrodite got it right
you're a flower in the wind.
Word on the street?
Radical alteration
Transformation with a
Capital T--
Metamortification
so to speak.

Check it out Adonis
Word on the--
Say what Sweet Adonis?
What's the word out on the Street?
Direful news Adonis
Word on the street--
Adonis is done in disaster.