things don’t go right
and all the quote irritations of modern living unquote
that Chekhov discussed so well
and then maybe we could learn to be friends
in this process of discovering
what makes each other tick
Pass me a cigaret
and pass me a cup of coffee Maybe
if we learn to really like one another
I’ll sit next to you the next session we have
and Bob and John and Alice and Kit
and you and me
will move our chairs a lot closer together
and really begin to understand
what really makes us tick in the mind
and straighten out our true meanings
We’ll call each other on the phone
write letters and postcards to each other
when we’re away for vacation
and write poems about what we do each day
and really all the love
even while a lot of loneliness exists in the world
and how we learn each other’s quirks
We’ll better cope with anything and anyone
that might come up and we might meet
and we’ll rent a farm
and start a commune
that probably won’t be as easy as starting a car
and we’ll skinny dip in the pond
take planes to Europe
help the disadvantaged and underdeveloped
make the world a better place to grow in
and when we get old
we’ll look back on all this
and know just know
just six of us had the power
to change the course of things
by learning to get along better
and it all started
with us sitting down
looking each other straight in the eye
and rapping
air like art
moves
from
the
window
eyes look out
waves of light
spin webs in limbs
a sunny side of the street gives shadows hats
exclamation
point
a yellow sweater folds
POEM
at this point in history
tremulous sweeps can be heard
by the now-defunct brooms
that have just this second become necessary
to the oncoming madness of the self
the self and its other
sets up conditions
a) as I said
b) as I take
c) as I get
music is in the makeup
at any minute arousing thoughts of flowers,
or lips that shape notes in conjunction
(like stars) with the tongue
the language times use to talk through the petals
so sweet the head shakes
the other meantimes, on a particular evening,
stares rocking in disbelief
not seeing the we for what it is without clothes
the he and she
leaving the door open to memories of nature
dynamite carried by swans
A GOOD NIGHT’S
a good night’s
sleep does wonders
for the disposition
disposes of sleep
supposes a desire
to wind up
and pitch curves
through a brain
curling like a
spring through landscape
a dream, like
a plane high
up complains to
a chair in
a hotel lobby
a convention enters
town and sweeps
past the speakers
in a gown
the speakers go
to supper, talk
awhile, go up
and go to
sleep
