Back to Mike
If
you became invisible,
would
he like you more?
That
way he might read into
empty
space
just
what he needs.
He
might see an old gazelle
or
bears on ice floes in the cold.
Anything
he’d want.
You
could roar or
humbly
kiss his wedding ring,
if
that would do.
And
then expect
that
when the sky is dark,
he’d return to you.
Big Diomede
Looking
for the Moscow
check-in
booth,
I saw
such lovely men
I
fell in love
seven
times.
The
airport turned
a
brilliant blue.
Not
one of them
knew
what
I had seen
in
them.
I
wish those men
had
all seen me
and
liked the view.
But
no, just haze and rush
until
the lady
at
the counter looked askew.
She
studied me.
She’d seen my eyes flash blue.
I knew she knew too much.
Donskoy Monastery and the Tourist
Where
were they shot?
Show
me where. Or describe the spot.
Also
let me know where they were burned
and
how their comrades lit the fire
and
justified their act.
It’s
a place I need to see.
I’ve
never seen such gloom.
No
tears. I’m looking out this window,
and
it’s cold. Would you like to look?
Perhaps
you’d like to look for me.
Nothing
fits, though horror
happened
here. Is there anywhere
its
secret can’t be known?
Keep
your balance.
Look! See!
Having a Drink Alone
“Why do you balk at that will whose
intent
can never be thwarted, which has
increased
your pains a number of times? Why
butt
against the fates?”
— Dante Alighieri, Cantos
from Dante’s Inferno, Canto 9,
translated by Armand
Schwerner
They’ve
chosen not to hear
and
do not know you stand above.
They
have a celebration.
You
watch them from your balcony.
The
air is hot.
You
can’t retreat.
Enamored,
you’d
close
out the sound,
and
close the door.
Imaginary
windows
will
not shut.
The
happy ones you’re watching, leave.
The
joy you heard from them
is
gone.
Why
did they acquiesce?
Why
did they do what others want?
Perhaps
it gave them joy.
Each
evening there are more to see.
You
see them passing down below.
You
cannot close the door.
The
windows will not shut.
You wonder how they pass the night.
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