Friday, May 22, 2015

Slow Frays Upon A Maryland Dusk (rough drafts)

Below is a hand written draft of the poem Baltimore III that belongs to a recent poem collection Slow Frays Upon A Maryland Dusk.  A book about Maryland, sort.  Possibly Naive.  Simultaneous present archaeology.  Lyical poems.  Where one becomes many.  The refractions of stories.   A work in progress.  Naive.  Naive cruelties.  Also below are a couple of more rough drafts.


and if the air shattered
and the glass was not replaced--

Bones outlast the meat

ask the chicken bones the rats drag off
and gnaw upon neath dark city bushes.

          songs git forgotten
birds outlast songs--
          feathers outlast birds

          how my brothers growl
amongst the bone yard of dog days
Axe moon? why don't ya swing on down?

and strangers slamming doors

in the dark hallway at three a.m

watch tha blue flash police beams refract
thru tha dark bedroom

Billie Holiday cryin and tha radio ain't on.

Greemount Cemetery  City Graveyardings

Rain froth

I lost 50 bucks
in the cemetery.  Or wasz it
tha graveyard?

Ghosts of young women roosting
from pathetiques.

Light polishes ghost eyes--wives
of past lives--

unfolding terse card game
          card table--spilled

spilled liquor is like crying over spilled milk.

Gangster city--

Little Melvin Peanut is the King of all the Gangsters

He directs the automatics of figures.

Cattle car death fog bottom bright/blithe

tha heroin slope slouch folks
guy rubs his skinny ass crevice on
top of tha fire hydrant

plastic dollar store soldiers
on 4four year old Tommy's grave site

Father slices his left bare foot
on a broken beer bottle
whilst walking
Cobblestone paths
webbing thar to here
passages---graveyard cartographY

Good rains thunder

(maybe there will be a hard collection of these poems)