N learns to fly

III

N leans against the truck's cab, one
Cup of coffee; 4:30 am
Thinking "work-out"
At lunch: the lift low

Ers. One window water and soap.
Reflects a person - "N" - two
cups of coffee; 5 thir
Ty am "Growing a

Stomach, Mr. N?"  Turning to look
At the eastern sky, dawn, Ju
Piter, Saturn. Back to 
The soap and water,

Squeegee: 'My life is stable, is
Wonderful,' a rope slips, a
Heartbeat; a stomach surge,
Stability.

The motor pulls the platform up to
The roof. The roof and over the 
Overhang. The wedding
Plans are now in full swing.

N Learns to fly

II

Once a nail is pounded in...
It is there: N walks to his
Garage and looks at his
Weights; his workout, his;

In the driveway are ten buckets.
Each full with water, soap
And bleach: "some creations
Are written, others

Flow along the gutters of streets."
N thinks; 'work tomorrow, to
Day,' Should forget, once
A nail is hammer

Ed in, an impression remains.
A footprint, a head print, a
Hammer head print, a cry
Ing child. When the van

Is full and one child is excluded.
A nail is pulled up, up
Out; out.  These muscles ache.
Ache.  Once a nail, once.

N learns to fly

I

The barbeque top slams shut. Shut!
N leans on the door.  N drinks
Beer,  And leans on the door.
Smoke rises up un

Der the eaves and floats into the
Den: no burrow here. N thinks,
"Those poor bastards downtown."
No hole here: detach

Ed. The meat is done and is slapped
On plates for friends to eat, one
Per... blackened with pep
Per - listening to

Metalicka; no curbing the fun,
No discord here, no abandonment
Here, there is love and friends and
Steak and beer and trust and...

Forty Two Degrees

"I'm sorry to have to tell you this,
But your son is dead."  H stood
In the street and stared at the
Sky.  One cloud. On the ground two ants climbed
Up H's shoe. Ant 1 said, "Since when are you, you

Following me?"  Leg hairs, around.  Ant 2
Says, "We are one, why is the
question?" "Don't ask," Ant 1 stomps off,
Up the leg of H. (I was dreaming.
And somewhere a note floated up from a

Pool: is it a mistake in under
Standing?)  From these yellow pads
ruled legal, a diary,
A confessional work is jotted
Down; written for a few friends or anyone?

Some understanding was lost to H.
"What did I forget to un
Derstand?" Through the pages of number
Forty three.  It is here, "A bell that
For you, must for me, too." Legal

Pad, no this is a mistake; Ant1 climbs
Onto his collar.  Looks 
Down: son dead in Pakistan, dead
In Los Angeles, or dead in New 
York, or dead in San Francisco.  It's not

A memory or a note. It's part of
The air - in the air or floating 
Down from a flue - the smoke and
Bus exhaust.  Each particle writing
Another line in the story: H walks.

Forty One Degrees

III

Now, the sky and clouds rise.
The rain stops. The light in the
Background makes the foreground negative.
Once pictures cease, at once these thoughts stop.

The time is 6am.
On assessing the asphalt;
A view, that right or wrong, can be
Disputed: "our worth, a sentiment lost." on

The steps my hands ache, hurt,
A fire is burning across the street
In a trash receptacle,
Not a can, it's open lattice, allows air

To pass; the fire is out.
"Warmth is outlawed by trash
Companies."  Now.  The walls are white and
Stark.  This isn't color.  Now.  If it's a street light?

It's a pair of head lights.
A head comes out of a window and
Yells, "SINCE YOU LOOK ANGRY..." disappears.
Down 1st Street,  the LAPD is asleep at a concrete barrier.

What's left of the living,
An arrangement of nitrogenous
Bases of DNA.
Heredity - inherited capacity to kill and kill again.

Forty One Degrees

II

This look.  This way of seeing
Isn't inexplicable.
The steps to the front door are clean, no
Leaves. This thinking on a specific point is

Removed from and
Measured.  Sliced finger
From a knife, while cutting apples.  The
Cutting is red in blood and apples.  It

Is a look.  Your eyes from
The next room - reading Ashbery.
Clouds of smoke.  A 3/4 moon in
January.  An oak leaf dropping on the

Patio - the light is
Almost, almost gone: the elm
Tree has lost a lot of leaves this winter.
Why?  My three year old mind wanders off to the

Bathroom.  Do I smell incense?
Yes and or no.  A fire?
T stood by the grass on First Street and
spoke to her invisible friend, "you got here

And then thinking you saw
Fire, some stinky incense smoke,
You got pulled up trying to cross
A power line under a plastic protector."

Forty One Degrees

Clouds of smoke.  Now is the
Beginning, though undefined.
Viewed from picture books.  It is our
Future.  "Once this opinion is related."

It is dark.  Measures of
Ourselves, expect some right.
Placed.  A block on a board: sun up,
Sun down - nothing is given up; a meaning.

Clouds of smoke. Gone and come.
It is now, and the view of
It, new to our eyes.  Slipping past a 
Door without hinges.  Gaining a look at the

Sky.  At night the stars are
Appearing.  Jet noise over
Head.  Coffee guy said this morning, "they said
On the radio that it was 9 degrees
Above freezing," I said,
"Forty-one?"  Another guy
In a gray suit looked at me. "uh?"
I laughed and thought, 'Fahrenheit or centigrade!'

2nd Street Corner - North

Bright mustard colored socks
Spread out between two legs
Attached to a body leaning
Arms back into the grass.

Face with blue glasses.
Head moving back and forth.
Back pack on the sidewalk.
A sign taped to the outside
Written in small letters, "Ravi Shankar,
'Their behavior disgusts me,' sa 
Re ga ma pa dha ni."
Clap and wave.  Signal
For the dancing shoe laces
Rising up and lurching at
Other shoes walking by,
"Do you sense one's own smallness?"
They're swinging and swaying
To a 3,2,2 rhythmic cycle,
Bend down and kiss the sidewalk:

The faces are frozen, smiling
Staring at the space between
Two buildings.  Lips red,
Eyes bright, cheeks glowing,
No words.  Walking along Aliso St.
Back to Commercial.

2nd Street Sidewalk - East

The signal changes to green.
Old dust from the windowsills
Above.  Covered in sweat,
Every facial poor (pore) plugged.
The signal changes to red,
"Oh, no smell of wit in this
Witless state, the end
Is reached in dreary fate!"
Drop a penny on the ground, no
Wit, no reflection.  The sidewalk
Slides away.  The open asphalt
Glides under.  Sails unfurled
Against the sun.  Mount 
Wilson antennas, waves of radio
Talk, "Is this, is the dust
Of earth, Is this?"
The dirt that is trapped in the gutter was
Swept out of a truck from Phoenix.
Across the intersection the light is red.
Riders waiting for the bus
Stare up the street and back to a paper 
Or back down the street.

It's an old corduroy coat.
The back is torn at the
Bottom.  Threads hang,
"Oh, is this the coat that
Returns to the earth, the
Cork that stops God's sweat?"

A water bottle sports top
In a green trash bag
Wrapped around a large
Basket.  Step off the
Curb.

2nd Street Sidewalk - West

Turn around then face west (left)
New black basketball shoes, toes
Forward on the curbs edge
Beginning a fifty yard swim
From a starting platform.
Bright blue water sparkles
In the sunlight.  Stripes to
The other end.  Stripes on the
Street.  At 3am, walking
Across the street - empty
Except for the street cleaner.
Yellow flashing lights driving
Down the wrong way turning
Around and back, "you'll get run
Over by the city truck."  It's dark.
An old tire, a car alarm,
The changing of the parking lot crew,
Three fifty to 4am.  The
Price is set for the daily workers:

Those also standing in lines.
Papers, blankets, a visa, a green card,
Another chance to live and work in hell.
A swim to the end of 400 yards.