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.
Wince
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
whining
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
liquor
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)
