Poetry six

Stuffed Tunisian Salad

1

towel wrapped
salty wet sticky
blown and bodied
glancing that shadowed
Balzac figured robed
severe unoccidental trying
brow beaten desires
light on Tunisian forms
he eats pizza pondering
piously encamping
solitude against pronouncements
of loneliness
while Bon Jovi raves in Djerba
some intoxicating elixir this

2

and these
Ulyssesian lamentations
untrue Penelope
unloving love in lovers too many
unheroic glories
unacknowledged rescues
people’s TV’d stories
silence of deities
a Muse’s indifference
unfathering
unfollowing ‘cept in death
yet blooming thunder
in ears of dark men
jasmine scenting reminders
in pleading songs of sorrow

3

she watches him watching her watching his train leaving her dry field animals and black plastic sacs take veil in two corners of mouth fronting teeth heat grimacing porting piles unbelieving sticks weighted bented watching future training by her slow heavied past present swimming in full dress flowing fullness and flesh signalling stranger eyes deep green pure or black recognition longing escape to sink slip toward virginal safety bloodied night sheets waiting the passing of youthful momentary gasping flopping on freedom shores new shopping list his-story leave what behind you take the rest

4

the pragmatism of
men who build sloppily
brick edifices to cover
most elegantly in surfaces
a smoothing over of
a spiritual base not of
platonic form
moulding
toward appearing
sincere
grace endures

5

for you
john’s descendents ours
clients of Africa
1997
seduced your french franc strong
forthing smiles goods and graces
welcoming
she lifted her asshole high
for us seemed to enjoy
plunging her continental divide
any position servient you like
(don’t touch that part)
her pink dignity retained yet
in spite all enticements
last laugh who
capitalicking progression toward
that intimacy over
no thank you now out
you
still have babylonian guards
you’re finished when
oh tourismo evermore
buying selling
how much for
who’s the whore

6

a son
to a father’s no more
his playful graces
turning on bestial punishments
by the child mirror
haunted he
kindred blood race unto death
fleeing the follower

and the filial launching
finding father’s same markers
arriving visions of sameness
heeding grieves
mistakes regrets
a thousand river and sea crossings
all one hell
reading
codified tongues of ghosts
in shallow ports of call
from wind
extracting answers

7

all white his garments
sun leathery lined faced
millennium wisdom
grandfather’s double
reaching out he
non parle franchese timid me
refusing his cig shaking my finger
he takes my water
I drink after him

Silence and
scorched journey
parched rock sparse paled plants
mountainous vistas monotonous
cinder block villages
dust and waves of heat
rising
children barefoot smiling dirty faces
arriving we share separation
placing hand on shoulder
an eternity
pasts rush meeting presences
futures backsliding
death’s call stalled
turning toward it remembering
tearful goodbyes many

8

waking in 45 degree night heat
hooded drench
sweater jacket shirt pants socks
chills revolving on hot vomiting
closing in
ephemeral slippery consciousness
battle waging
sotto terra
his body a field
trying to watch
in the wake of images
corporal records
Rome destroys Carthage
Isis dodging Osiris
revenge of sons
immortal’s tormented pleasures
captain’s Penelopian doubt war
electron captive to nucleus
cells’ outputs coded hieroglyphs
hot bath Vivaldi back to bed
tremor unrelenting
elemental icebergs in desert mindstorm
he’d hope later death’s arrival
not like this
power driven auto-viral-pilot
utter chaos
a fortnight passed
or only hours
then blood and pain
furthering remembrances



Epilogue

And the world before him
I don’t say that John will realise all this
same old story Aleous
universe never ending
carded four times in one
face of fear in every
power prestige and caste
blown to smithereens
hell US push peace talks
viva Italia magistra artium
we shall overcome
evil I fear though I walk
Imodium AD don’t leave home without
those dark Aitalyians
go where the wind blows
the mind’s wanderings
bounced him right back to where
nothin’ good t’say don’t
how the other half lives
take your medicine
grin and bare it
such soft spoken women
loud Americas
I felt like an object
do I see you really
Pole Star frigerator in every
donkeys are embarrassed by their
a stuffed camel
Palm Sundies
your profession wait here
tangled web
mia seconda casa
m’casa dove
???
the grandyear that was Rome
money is time
I don’t say John will
we tolerate incredible dullness
it looks poorest when we are richest
wandering ’til the truth be know

Tunisia and Napoli August 1-9, 1997