Entropy
someone is kicking 
the back of my seat
again in the flickering 
theater, he rocks and rocks
as if it is all too boring
as if the measured words
and lace and difficult boots
rippling back and forth before us
on a piece of sheer cloth
the size of a house
the size of God’s tongue,
are nothing more than
an out-of-date newspaper
or an empty linen sagging
on the clothesline
on a gray day, an indoor day
he kicks and he kicks
the short someone
the little man with
angry thumbs and toes
and my back begins
to ache as if I am
a horse, a poor
pony on endless track,
a carnival circle around a circle,
endless children plopped 
on my saddle as circus music
weeps from garish blue 
instruments and a gold bell or two
the theater plays itself out
the actors say what they say
they speak about serious rocks, 
chairs with broken spokes, cars
that go or won’t
they have guns or they
have drawers, there are women
in closets and men upstairs
and the little man goes 
on and on until I lose
the thread of what 
is being said
until all I’m doing 
is waiting for the light
at the end, for the 
sunrise or sunset
and for the curtain to
swoop down and
the hall lights to go up
I wait for the credits
with my aching back
and the constant, rock, rock,
I wait for it all to end but I
never think to turn 
and just whisper stop
_________________________
I’m doing a reading next Tuesday at Think CafĂ© (Details to follow) and I just bought some beautiful and cheeeeeep art.  I got the Katarina   and   Manshroom.
I can’t wait to get them in the mail!  Real prints for 20 dollars!
No comments:
Post a Comment