Several Pieces of Poetry

Moment Of Clarity At A Diner 04/08/08

3 slices of thick yellow texas-toast French toast, and
long bacon strips and 2 eggs over-medium on a separate plate
altogether, and
a kind-of shitty cup of diner coffee (cream and sugar) and a book:  Last
Exit To Brooklyn. This breakfast-for-lunch costs money, I realize.  This

for That. 4 bucks for the French toast, 4 for the eggs and bacon, probably
a dollar for the coffee.  Plus tip.  I pour the syrup from the sticky glass pourer and it
makes sense.  The way things
are.

ABYSS

The three-pronged electrical
outlet calls my name.  I stare
at it, knowing full well the dark power
it holds, and yet I desire
right now -above all else- to
stick a metal knife into
one of this Sirens’ slotted
openings.  I lean forward
so slightly, staring into the
fiery gap.

CHALKBOARD

See how the professor taps the end of the worn nub of chalk, its high-hollow sound,
as he emphasizes the main point:  Ars Poetica
“Pay Attention to this phrase,” the tapping seems to say, tap tap tap, this is important!

I am young and have no reason to cling to the traditions of my grandfathers,
but I must confess that I greatly prefer chalk and board to
computer and projection.

The grainy-smooth sound of that white stubby stick
crudely scratching that green (or black) palette is
Romantic!

The chalk belies everyone’s idiosyncrasies, their fingerprint of style;
lays bare their very thoughts as sewing string pulled out and out and out as the spinning
spool unravels itself there before you long and looping and marvelously mangled.