9/1/2015 A Train to Harlem

I want to see daylight...
a false prophet drones__

"who cares" is a marked
park bench. Enthroned,

robed in linen, a sun-
lit gauze. Refractory 

she weeps of problems
between threads melting away.

Feel them anyhow:
tulle and twill, rib-less nature

is a cancer
needs to be clothed,

enclosed; toil and beauty bent
twisted in the loom


and was overthrown.

6 Train: East 28th Street

If I fly into this I will be prey

To the argument's basis.

If I fly away from this I will stray

From the point that began it. 

If I pray to the woods of my manliness

Or fall short of what could be gladness 

What would I say?

Just what would I say?

You can't say another word, another symbiotic world

Where the lights slowly fade on what's dark & grey.

You won't lay another lamb on your fact totem 

I don't have the right to slay. 

If you stray from this you will be

Only the argument's concubine. 

Underwriting the vagrant beatitudes

Your mother had in mind. 

Could you tell that we were dangerously

Close to the graves implications of

What you should say?

Just what should you say? 

6 Train: 59th to 14th Street

Those fit men. Their pectoral pairings

Their married impalings 

And untailored mendings 

Too soon mollified 

By wife and todlerry. 

The fatal coatery of 

Wealthy unemployers,

Well-to-do destroyers

Of plenty. The plot of the

Well intentioned beast of the lottery

Is set to deploy you. 

Sweet to avoid you. 

Oh, the intelligence 

Of risky days in the dillagence 

Of those in the scenery.

Take cues from a dreamery

Too soft or obscene for thee. 

This ring that I offer

These proofs from the coffer

Of all the profundity knocked 

To the absurd infinity. 

I wonder...

How long 'til you're done with me?

06/10/2015

6 Train: 5/12/2015

Rectify

Fortitude 

Decisions made 

Tasks... Accomplished 

Checks listed and checked

96 degrees to 86th street 

3 blocks to the house

I've been on a Lion Hunt

Or Bear depending on where

Which one or who

I follow the lines regarded as you

Disjointed. Disintegrate strands of a pear 

Ingratiate rhymes to the tragical line. 

Who wants in, who is it

The heat of the town

Racked up like such cattle

My sand-line is down