A LITTLE TOOTH
Your baby grows a tooth, then two, and four, and five, then she wants some meat directly from the bone. It’s all over: she’ll learn some words, she’ll fall in love with cretins, dolts, a sweet talker on his way to jail. And you, your wife, get old, flyblown, and rue nothing. You did, you loved, your feet are sore. It’s dusk. Your daughter’s tall.
Damn. More poems HERE.
Boil it down: feet, skin, gristle, bones, vertebrae, heart muscle, boil it down, skim, and boil again, dreams, history, add them and boil again, boil and skim in closed cauldrons, boil your horse, his hooves, the runned-over dog you loved, the girl by the pencil sharpener who looked at you, looked away, boil that for hours, render it down, take more from the top as more settles to the bottom, the heavier, the denser, throw in ache and sperm, and a bead of sweat that slid from your armpit to your waist as you sat stiff-backed before a test, turn up the fire, boil and skim, boil some more, add a fever and the virus that blinded an eye, now’s the time to add guilt and fear, throw logs on the fire, coal, gasoline, throw two goldfish in the pot (their swim bladders used for “clearing”), boil and boil, render it down and distill, concentrate that for which there is no other use at all, boil it down, down, then stir it with rosewater, that which is now one dense, fatty, scented red essence which you smear on your lips and go forth to plant as many kisses upon the world as the world can bear!BLUE WITH COLLAPSE Thomas Lux The devil’s in my neck. Everything I hear is overviolined, even the wind, even the wind. It’s like walking in nurdles up to my chest, squeaky and slow. It’s spring, the blooming branches nearly hide the many dead ones. A squirrel, digging for a nut, upends my frail tomato plant and fails to replant it, even though he has the tools. I find this kind of squirrely oblivion everywhere. I was a man filled to the top of my spine, filled to the lump on the back of my head, with hope. Then I read a few thousand history books. Little, and nothing, perturbs me now. Even the beheadings, even the giant meat hooks in the sky, more frequent each day, bother me not a tittle, not a jot.
The Judgement Of Things Moving Through Time: No Surprises, and Nothing New Under The Sun. Not even meathooks, not even Magnolias.ReplyDelete
Is it because we're jaded? Sick with Experience? And the intoxication of Youth with all the first-times can see more clearly How, and Which, and What?
Whole lotta' dyin' goin' onReplyDelete
And you, your wife, get oldReplyDelete
Thomas Lux, "A Little Tooth"
Well, my son, life is like a beanstalk, innit?
Keith Reid, "Glimpses of Nirvana"
an episode from my adventures as a time traveller from the first half of the twentieth century at the montgomery college library, rockville md, 2017, wednesday morning
1)i asked the desk attendant where i could find a xerox machine
1a)she didn't recognize the term "xerox machine", so i amended it to "photocopy machine"
2)there are no longer any photocopy machines in the library - they have been phased out
3)there is a scanner, the output of which can be saved to usb or sent to one's email
4)in a different building on campus one can obtain photocopy services
i remember back in the 1950s my grandparents would refer to the "frigidaire" - i knew what they meant, of course, they had used that word as long as i had known them