when columbus discovered america

“Nothing comes easily to you human creature
least of all the skill to live humanely”
Ghalib

i

welcome you, welcome
to this fair land
of green
green as the moist food
you eat
plenty as the jingle in you
piggy bank
golden as the picture maiden’s
hair
i say to you
welcome!
entrance knob to the unknown
you are
explored, a myth,
a challenge
to viking prospects
of noble heritage
come in
talent
tradesman
owner of your good fortune
counted in dividends
and shared earnings
i say to you
come in!
prospector, miner,
blacksmith, doctor,
lawyer
stability built
into a sold wall
of crowning
flesh
i say to you
you are

american sweet

ii

i am not easy
i am not uneasy
but i am not easy

i speak in the present
while living in the past
where i dream of the future

i am silence is golden
in a meandering tongue
unknown to pure english speakers

i am aa bond
stocked in c blood
for b plus people

i am a child
with a woman’s heart
in a man’s body

i am a crystal mirror
where no light penetrates
except dark reflections

i am the driver
for a for-passenger-only car
on a no-lane highway

i am the question
i seek to answer
with no picture words

i am the dreamer
with the realistic mind
of a pessimist

hello to america
hello to earth
farewell to me

i am not easy
i am not uneasy
but i am not easy

iii

through dying C
through dying through lying
through crying
through trying to comfort
you C
my home my home
comfort dispersed
when i found out
what you are A
how you came to be me
A A
how i came to be you
A A aaaa
aahh

iv

where are we going america?
to the future
to the past
or where
shall i take this question?

o christmas tree
o christmas tree
string you answers too?

are my jolly eyes deceiving you
oh wondrous mystic
of steady employment
here i am! catch phrases
caught me?

caught caught caught
in dreams dreams

i am packing my bag america
flying the coop when the next war comes
vamoose!
shall i ride
and you will have my address,
dear as you are,
to send me picture post cards
of all the dead heroes
for christmas

And between dead and live how I came to live

Not with roses nor asters, no garden for my hair
not with rhododendrons, no I won’t be going there
to shed my skin.

Not to the soul within
the laces of confetti.
No,
I won’t be going there.

Not to Brussels , nor Roma, not to dear Paree,
not to London England’s pubs, no, they won’t be seeing me
bursting apart.

Each vein – path to my heart
where blood vessels leech.
No,
I won’t be going there.

Not in summer, not in winter, not in autumn’s blazing leaves,
not in the May of June bugs will I let my lungs freeze
over into icicles.

Barren sickles
revamped in a season’s mock.
No,
I won’t be going there.

Not in black bedecked nor in white, nor in the meadow green,
not in the hazel yellow, no, from the rainbow’s pot I’m a weened
infant, live

in rock ‘n roll jive,
dispersed in a vibrant host,
making the most
of jogging toes.
No sister,
I won’t be going there.
No way I’m going there!
No,
not there.

Garden song

“I did not want any flowers, I only wanted
to lie with my head turned up and be utterly empty.”
– Sylvia Plath

I am the echo from the grave,
the soul that speaks from under
the worn soil and pale flowers –
decorations of your love.

I speak in rhythms of lonely tunes,
the spirit of Christmas gone
too late, too late.
Remove the chains
you have given me.

I shall wander, an empty spirit
on roads too old for feet –
I have none,
only chains to drag.

Look up, lest you become like me,
the grave that does not die –
look up, look up!
Empty yourself of the anchor
pulling you under.

Heart filled does the giver give,
never empty of the unseen.
Not flowers, nor charms, nor beauty,
just joy of an abounding-
turn-the-tide saint.

1980s

i am

i am
therefore is god
rene you sly
old dog
don’t you know
can’t you see
i am many
things
which are not
white unicorns
santa claus
green eyed monsters
peace on earth…

i am-
but where is god
in my soul
asleep
forget about
the children dying
the gunfire
never
ending
the empty bellies
hanging
just hanging
out

i’d sleep too
if
i were god

7/21/89

i don’t know where to go

i don’t know
where to
go

i’d like to just
sit
peaceful like
underneath some kind of
tree
and sleep

but i don’t
know where
to go to
get a
peace of mind

i’d like my mommy
and daddy
to hold me
kind of tight
in their wide
sweeping arms

but i don’t
know where to

find them

i’d like that
big brown grizzly
to shrivel
like dorothy’s witch

just seep
on back to hell

so i can sit
kind of peaceful
under this tree

not in it

12/8/1980

Grandma

A good woman passed
this way,
sweet she was, as the apple-
cinnamon aroma
drifting towards my stomach;
I was always filled with her.

A good woman walked
on by,
kind she was, as rumors
that never existed.
She never broke my heart.

A good woman lived once
here – in this very spot
where my feet drop like
lead,
my eyes spill like
oceans,
my arms won’t hold
me up.

A good woman passed my way
once,
keeps bleeding through these verses.

A good woman never dies,
warms me up –
never dies.

11/21/1980

anthem undone

lady-you are the pawn
of great visions seen by empty eyes
you shall be moved from square to square
and be glad they have coated you in red
you feel no more-
the spur of mechanization
i cry faintly for the freedom-
let me out of this vacant hole
i am much too young
for your nonsense games
i am much too sensitive
for your projects
i am much too old
for you to come moving me again-
i am moving again
lady-you are sheeted in a velvet
that wipes away past tears
they have placed you in the
hectic arena of a train station
and you hear the reminders coming out-
hitting your ears like bullets-
this is my home

1980s