Author Information
Brother
This I can not tell you
to formulate in your mind
the ones rejected
who walk the streets
in encapsulated heels.
The ordinary Capone's
and the lash of every premadonna
nicking so close to our eyes
we don't flinch; it's too fast.
Narrow minded yellow taxi cabs
hit up and beat up
slow moving funeral carts
VHS video tapes in 1983
(flash! laser lights. flash! laser lights)
a hit man hit us
straight in our guts
at a government parade
free lemonade
and the ace of spades;
that's how easy we were.
Tom cats in a panic!
Breaking their toe step
while they tap dance
on stages
their cloaks are real
like saris
and pottery
the German heartbreak
the French panandrome wheel
up in smoke
against all walls
engaged in sex
in free talk
and struggle.
His shot is low.
He's empty now.
and for sure the bread is ours
given the way we've been mistreated
like the swelling leaves
seen from a range
where we can not smell
the contrived dignity of the trees
the sky
nature is not this poem
love is not this poem
aggression is not this poem
when the gas runs out
I trickle
like a bear
in a camp
hungry
and simple
and sleeping
