Poems 1959-2009

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Poems 1959-2009 Page 27

by Frederick Seidel


  Waiting look of someone

  Waiting to be introduced,

  Without wings but without weight, oh light!

  As the fist which has learned how

  Waving goodbye, opening and closing up to the air

  To breathe. The child

  Stares past his hand. The blank stares at the child.

  Goodbye.

  SUNRISE

  FOR BLAIR FOX

  The gold watch that retired free will was constant dawn.

  Constant sunrise. But then it was dawn. Christ rose,

  White-faced gold bulging the horizon

  Like too much honey in a spoon, an instant

  Stretching forever that would not spill; constant

  Sunrise blocked by the buildings opposite;

  Constant sunrise before it was light. Then it

  Was dawn. A shoe shined dully like liquorice.

  A hand flowed toward the silent clock radio.

  Bicentennial April, the two hundredth

  Lash of the revolving lighthouse wink,

  Spread out on the ceiling like a groundcloth.

  Whole dream: a child stood up. Dream 2: yearning,

  Supine, head downhill on a hill. Dream: turning

  And turning, a swan patrols his empty nest,

  Loops of an eighteenth-century signature, swan crest,

  Mother and cygnet have been devoured by the dogs.

  The dogs the dogs. A shadow shivered with leaves.

  Perth, Denpasar, Djakarta, Bangkok, Bom

  Bombom bay. Dogs are man’s greatest invention. Dogs.

  They were nice dogs. Find a bottle of Dom

  Pérignon in Western Australia.

  Find life on Mars. Find Jesus. “You are a failya,”

  The president of the United States said.

  He was killed, and she became Bob’s. His head,

  Robert Kennedy’s, lay as if removed

  In the lap of a Puerto Rican boy praying.

  Ladies and gentlemen, the president

  Of the United States, fall in the air,

  A dim streetlight past dawn not living to repent,

  Ghostwalks by the canal, the blood still dry

  Inside soaked street shoes, hands washed clean that try

  To cup the rain that ends the drought. No one

  Spoke. Blindfolds, plus the huge curtains had been drawn.

  Because of his back he had to be on his back.

  Neither woman dreamed a friend was the other.

  Innocence. Water particles and rainbow

  Above the sweet smell of gasoline—hiss of a hose

  Drumming the suds off the town car’s whitewalls, which glow!

  Pink-soled gum boots, pink gums of the ebony chauffeur,

  Pink summer evenings of strontium 90, remember?

  Vestal black panther tar stills the street.

  The coolness of the enormous lawns. Repeat.

  O innocent water particles and rainbow

  Above the sweet smell of gas, hiss of the hose!

  When you are little, a knee of your knickers torn,

  The freshness of rain about to fall is what

  It would be like not to have been born.

  Believe. Believed they were lined up to take showers

  Dies illa, that April, which brought May flowers.

  Safer than the time before the baby

  Crawls is the time before he smiles, maybe.

  Stalin’s merry moustache, magnetic, malignant,

  Crawls slowly over a leaf which cannot move.

  If the words sound queer and funny to your ear,

  A little bit jumbled and jivey, it must be

  Someone in 1943 you hear:

  Who like a dog looking at a doorknob

  Does not know why. Slats of daylight bob

  On the wall softly, a gentle knocking, a breeze.

  A caterpillar fills the bed which is

  Covered with blood. 1943.

  The stools in the toilet bowl, are they alive?

  Harlem on fire rouged the uptown sky.

  But the shot squeezed off in tears splashes short.

  But bullets whizzing through hell need no alibi

  Before they melt away. Intake. Compression,

  Ignition, explosion. Expansion. Exhaust. Depression

  Reddens the toilet paper. That black it feels.

  Endomorphic round-fendered automobiles

  Slow, startle each other, and bolt in herds across

  Spuyten Duyvil for the fifties and Westchester.

  The cob stayed on the pond, perfect for Westchester,

  Circling a nonexistent pen. Polly

  Urethane sat on his face, Polly Esther

  Sat on his penis. Protecting the non-cygnet.

  Walking one day through the Piney Woods, he met

  Three dogs in that peculiar light, strays. Two

  Were shitting, looking off in that way dogs do,

  Hunchbacked, sensitive, aloof, and neither

  Male nor female. The third sat licking its teeth.

  At the Institute they are singing On Human

  Symbiosis and the Vicissitudes

  of Individuation. Light of the One—

  A summer sidewalk, a shadow shivered with leaves.

  The mother smiles, fa, so, the mother grieves,

  Beams down on the special bed for spinal

  Injuries love that is primary and final,

  Clear crystal a finger flicked that will ring a lifetime.

  Plastic wrap refuse in the bare trees means spring.

  And clouds blowing across empty sky.

  A gay couple drags a shivering fist-sized

  Dog down Broadway, their parachute brake. “Why

  Robert Frost?” the wife one pleads, nearly

  In tears; the other sniffs, “Because he

  Believed in Nature and I believe in Nature.”

  Pacing his study past a book-lined blur,

  A city dweller saw breasts, breast; their sour

  And bitter smell is his own smoker’s saliva.

  The call had finally arrived from Perth:

  He would live. C-4, a very high cervical

  Lesion, but breathing on his own—rebirth

  Into a new, another world, just seeing,

  Without losing consciousness, and being,

  Like being on the moon and seeing Earth,

  If you could breathe unaided. God, in Perth,

  Twelve hours’ time difference, thus day for night,

  It was almost winter and almost Easter.

  So accepting life is of the incredible.

  2 a.m., the reeking silky monsoon

  Air at Bombay Airport is edible,

  Fertile, fecal, fetal—thunder—divine

  Warm food for Krishna on which Krishna will dine.

  The service personnel vacuum barefooted,

  Surely Untouchables. Thunder. The booted

  Back down the aisles spraying disinfectant,

  By law, before disembarkation in Perth.

  Down Under thunder thunder in formation

  Delta wing Mach 2 dots time-warp to dust

  Motes, climb and dissolve high above the one

  Couple on the beach not looking up,

  In the direction of Arabia, Europe,

  Thunder, thunder, military jets,

  Mars. The man smokes many cigarettes.

  The man was saying to the woman, “Your son

  Has simply been reborn,” but can’t be heard.

  All is new behind their backs, or vast.

  House lots link up like cells and become house,

  Shade tree and lawn, the frontier hypoblast

  Of capitalism develops streets in minutes

  Like a Polaroid. The infinite’s

  Sublime indifference to the mile—Mao

  On nuclear war. Inches; dust motes; they go bow wow

  At the heels of history. The dust

  Imitates the thunder that will bring ra
in.

  By the Indian Ocean, he sat down

  And wept. Snarl suck-suck-suck waaah. It was the Grand

  Hôtel et de Milan. It was a gown

  Of moonlight, moving, stirring a faint breeze,

  Gauze curtains hissing softly like nylons please

  Please crossing and uncrossing. Who—how had

  The shutters opened? and the heavy brocade

  Curtain? How far away the ceiling was.

  The bedlamp. One floor below, Verdi died.

  How far away Australia was, years.

  A man asleep listened while his throat

  Tried to cry for help. He almost hears

  The brayed, longing, haunting whale song the deaf speak,

  Almost words. Out of silence, sounds leak

  Into silence, years. He lay there without

  Love, in comfort, straining to do without,

  And dreamed. A spaceship could reach the ceiling, the special

  Theory of relativity says.

  Leave love, comfort, not even masturbate,

  Not even love justice, not even want to kill,

  O to be sterile, and to rise and wait

  On the ceiling at sunrise, for dawn! stainless blond

  Ceiling, the beginning of the beyond!

  But the TV showed outstretched hands—a revolver

  Blocked the open door of the last chopper,

  Struggling to get airborne. The ditto sheet served

  With espresso began: Good morning! Here are the news.

  Phosphorescent napkins don’t make a bomb;

  Under the parasols of Bicè’s, Via

  Manzoni, chitchat chased the firefly of Vietnam.

  The courtyard flickered; the tablecloth glowed like lime.

  Corrado Agusta’s chow chow took its time

  Turning its head to look at one, very

  Refined and inhuman and dark as a mulberry,

  Not a dog. Its blue tongue was not on view.

  It had a mane and wore a harness, unsmiling.

  Being walked and warmed up, they roared like lions on leashes.

  The smell of castor oil. Snarl suck-suck-suck waaah

  A racing motorcycle running through

  The gears, on song; the ithyphallic faired

  Shape of speed waaah an Italian’s glans-bared

  Rosso di competizione. The Counts

  Agusta raced these Stradivarius grunts

  As genteelly as horse farms race horses—helicopter

  Gunships, Agusta Aeronautiche.

  The communists organized. Domenico

  Agusta reigned. Of course the one who knew

  Kennedys was the cold white rose Corrado.

  The boss nailed each picket by name with a nod,

  While Ciudad Trujillo and Riyadh

  Kept unrolling more terror dollars for Corrado.

  The iron and pious brother saw God go;

  The salesman brother settled for everything:

  Small arms fire, new nations; splits of brut, dry tears.

  Domenico Agusta saw God go

  Backwards like a helicopter in

  A film he saw in Rome—i.e., in tow

  With a helicopter. Sunbathers on Rome’s

  Roofs looked sideways from their cradled arms.

  Just outside the window Jesus appears.

  He faces us and steadily disappears.

  The audience applauded. So odd to be

  Agusta lifting off in your Agusta.

  Goodbye. Goodbye. The stuck door was freed

  And thrown open, and then closed and sealed.

  The moviegoers of the world recede,

  The White House and the tiny Marine band

  Were wheeled away. A bulbously gloved hand

  Frees the faulty door. Thrown open. Into

  The countdown, and counting. –9. When you

  Are no longer what you were. Thrown open.

  –8. O let me out nor in.

  Forty stories stock still like a boy

  Whose height is being measured stands on smoke

  As they withdraw the gantry, wheeled awoy,

  Away. Perth Denpasar Djakarta Bangkok

  Bombay in the capsule at the extreme tock,

  La la, in the minute head above

  The rest, eye movement peck peck like a dove,

  A man sits on his back strapped down reading

  Off numbers and getting younger, counting, cooing.

  Millions of pounds of propellants make one dream,

  Even more than psychoanalysis,

  Of getting somewhere. Eyes glow in the gleam

  Of the fuel gauges. Liquid oxygen

  And kerosene. Check. Liquid oxygen

  And liquid hydrogen—liquid in a freeze

  Of –420°

  F. Smoke boils off the ice that sheathes

  The stainless steel building beneath him, forty floors.

  Blue as the winder sapphire of the Cartier

  Watch he has no use for now, goodbye,

  The diodes of the digital display—

  Information the color of his eyes,

  As if his life were passing before his eyes,

  –7. Fin de race face Louis

  Cartier designed, inside a chewy

  Candy of gold; face in a diver’s helmet

  Glassed in, prickles of the gold rivets and screws.

  For everyday use, but by a Tutankhamen.

  It would look feminine on a girl. The first

  Wristwatch amused the sports of 1907.

  The sport who commissioned the original,

  The Brazilian Santos-Dumont, for a while

  In 1906 believed he was the first man

  To fly. Who says he did? None other than

  The National Air and Space Museum says

  Fernando Hippolyto da Costa does—

  Believes Santos was. How could—but then

  Who cares? Santos did not. Santos was not.

  The watch was 1908, some say seven.

  –6. What is there to believe in?

  –6. What kind of god is not even

  Immortal! –6. Nothing lasts.

  A block of hieroglyphics trumpets, blasts

  A golden long upended riff of silence,

  It says for whom, whose name has been effaced.

  To speak the name of the dead is to make them live

  Again. O pilgrim, restore the breath of life

  To him who has vanished. But the names they give.

  No one can pronounce the hieroglyphs.

  Then they had vowels to breathe with their bare midriffs,

  Yes which? No one’s known how to vocalize

  The consonants. The kings don’t recognize

  Their names, don’t recognize our names for them;

  The soft parts that could not be embalmed are life.

  One simply stares at the autistic face,

  Charred rock-hard paper, a god. Stares at the stared-at.

  Ramesses II in an exhibit case.

  The Mummy Room is packed with Japanese

  And German tours there to take in Ramesses.

  The guides call in their languages, “This way please.”

  It seems one stares until one hardly sees.

  It seems the room is empty. Like a dog

  Looking at a doorknob, one stares at the stared-at.

  As at a beetle rolling a ball of dung.

  As at a large breast, with its nipple erect.

  –5, soft and hard together among

  The million things that go together one

  Will lift away from, everything under the sun,

  Everything—dog and doorknob—combustion to vapor

  Lock—scissors cut paper, rock breaks scissors, paper

  Covers rock. Everything is looking

  For something softer than itself to eat.

  Think of the energy required to get

  Away from this hunt and peck for energy

  That’s running out. This need to lo
ok! O let

  Your spirit rise above the engines below you.

  Prepare for launch. O let a new way know you

  Helmeted and on your back strapped down.

  The moisture of the viscera, the blown

  Coral rose of the brain on its stem—in this

  Container, soft will never be exposed.

  And leave behind the ancient recipes,

  That cookbook for cannibals the Old Testament,

  Bloody contemporary of course of Ramesses.

  Cuisine minceur, urging one to eat less

  But well. O Egypt! O Israel’s salt sweetness!

  From going soft and hard, from going up

  And down, deliver us: struggling up

  The steep path as Abraham with fire and knife,

  And struggling down as Moses bent under the Law.

  O let me go. O Israel! O Egypt!

  The enemy’s godless campfire at night, meat roasting

  As you breathed near, sword drawn. Cut. Juice that dripped—

  Later—from the dates from the hand of your daughter

  Placed on your tongue in joy. Salute the slaughter.

  O let me go. Salute the screenwriter,

  DNA. Salute the freedom fighter

  Kalishnikov machine pistol. A spider

  Oiling the weapon spreads its legs and sighs.

  TERROR OUR PLEASURE. O let me go. Logo

  Of the age of ass—this age of movements—

  Members and dismembers is our motto.

  Oiling her weapon while in the mirror eyeing

  Herself, turbaned in a black howli, sighing,

  Is our muse It feels good, the spider. Mothers,

  The children must die with dignity. Brothers,

  Die. Mothers, calm the children. Squirt the poison

  Far back in your child’s throat. Stanza thirty-five.

  Seated on your back strapped tight, tighter,

  Feeling the contoured chair’s formfitting

  Love—no more hunt and peck on the typewriter

  For energy that’s running out. Stable

  Fireproof love ideally comfortable!

  You stare up at the gauges’ radiance.

  The mummy priest stares back in a trance,

  And places beside you the silent clock radio,

  And on the floor shoes for the long journey.

  To lie on the horizon unable to rise—

  How terrible to be the horizon! be

  The expression in the quadriplegic’s eyes,

  Constant sunrise of feelings but no feeling.

  The patient on the couch cow-eyes the ceiling.

  Under his broken armor is a flower

  Pinned down, that cannot reach its dagger, a flower.

  Tongs in his skull, and dreams, not every man

  Will wake. Can stand to look down at his penis and urine.

  I am less than a man and less than a woman,

  Wave after wave of moonlight breaks

 

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