* amor vincit omnia *

Every Generation

Ed Norris
is described by CityPaper
(which, parenthetically,
describes itself as Baltimore's
Free Alternative Weekly)
as The Thing That Wouldn't
Crawl Away And Die because
Ed Norris
has a higher profile now
than when he was
Police Commisioner
higher now than
when he was on trial
for using slush fund money
on fancy meals and illicit
women which
is what I always thought
a slush fund was for
but never mind me
and my skewed view
of politics
and politicians
and Ed Norris
who won't crawl away
and die.

Ed Norris has
a radio talk show which is
very popular
or so I've heard.
Some people think
Ed Norris should
crawl away and
not
be so high-profile, but I
remember Watergate and
G. Gordon Liddy and I
think that every generation
needs
a G. Gordon Liddy
even if
his name is
Ed Norris.

28 October 2005

* sic semper shitheads *

Memory Cluster

My mother looks at
herself in the
rearview mirror, applying
lipstick as she drives, eyes
darting from road to mirror to road. With
a quick flick of wrist, she
flips the mirror so I can see my
face. Her eyes, reversed, meet mine,
reversed, and she flashes her quirky grin at
me because I’m
helping her to
put on lipstick, just as I help my
father
shave, pulling faces that match
his as he scrapes away
white fluff. His eyes, reversed, meet mine, reversed, and
he dabs whipped foam
on my nose, puts down his
razor to laugh at me, tells me one
day he will cut himself and it will be
my fault.

My mother
does not dab lipstick
on my nose because she’s
driving but crinks her cheek
into a wink, laughs
out loud as I squinch a wink
back, surrounded, both of us, by her
perfume and the musty
car upholstery, do-wop and the sun
streaming down and down.

18 October 2005

Mixed Neighborhood

A white pigeon perches atop
burnt and boarded townhouse startling
beside its bluegrey fellows.

Daylight bold, a rat slithers from this
side to that, shocking standing sparrows to explosion of brown wings.

On that side, window boxes bloom beneath
neighbor’s flapping flag, scent of
sausages and coffee drift through a painted
screen, woman in faded floral housecoat
sweeps her steps.

Misery looms over me on
this side, less menacing than menace
but with desperation more bitter
than dispair. This one boarded, that one sagging, the next
with filthy paint, sidewalk crumbling to a jumble at my feet.

Lift my chin, quick my footsteps, and next time I’ll remember
to not choose this sad side of the street.

18 October 2005

* amor vincit omnia *

What?

You bring to me
a steaming stoneware vessel
filled with potable alertness
dark as bitter chocolate
twice as rich.

Thick earthy fragrance
invigorates my inhale
I smile and sip smokey fresh
brewed joe hand ground
by you, my wholesome hero.

You wink at me, then turn
and walk away.

x x x

What kind of third-rate
joint is this that I
don't even get
a refil?

12 October 2005

* amor vincit omnia *

Rejecting Values

I should

wear sunscreen
slow down
think before I speak and I
should

put on a sweater
drink my milk
wash my hands for one whole minute
and I

should

cut my caloric intake
lower my cholesteral
eliminate sugar and caffine
as though life without frozen
chocolate covered cheesecake
on a stick
could be called a life at all and

I

should watch
my weight and exercize
quit smoking and
eat more fibre
and I

should

be more careful
more considerate
more responsible

and I should

put things away
follow the recipe
watch less television and I

should

drive the speed limit
stop
buying foolish shoes and flimsy underwear and I

should
behave myself
act my age
turn down that music
cut the nonsense
and

if I do
all the things I

should

when will I
have time to
dance?

7 October 2005

Final Stanza

I stopped at fourty-four
because you didn't move me anymore, and yet
I find I lie, for
I suppose that this one counts
as fourty-five.

12 September 2005