STARES AND A LOOK

May 29, 2013

 

 

May 29, 2013

S T A R E S

 

Where is the wound that shines?

Over 50 years on

Over this  his day on?

My Back  way against all this memorial day here

I’ll intentionally send me to a ill-shielded shy there,

Back at again to that  day where

I’m Far too young  to fathom,

Or even  notice  yr. crevasse,

Yr  Grande Malaise,

Yr. countdown…Yr. Pass.

It makes me madly think now

It takes  the saddest thing    to tell now..

Stuck in a stack of old NewYorkers

There’s this old drawing

A mere boy  drawn in black & white

Stands on a step of his own basement, stares,

He did look down on his own  livid  apocalypse,

His lips, and the caption say

“It’s  A.O.K.”

.

Here is the wound that shines

Tonight, a glint off yr. cracked onyx ring.

I lift it  in my open fist to my lips.

.

.

.L  O  O  K

.

Hope  we’re having  a heaven  so

I’ll look all about &

Daddy can call out, (& it won’t hurt,no)

He’ll look just like he just got home from work:

“There’s my angry young man,”he’d shout.

We’d have it out;

My young man’s misery,

His young man’s mystery.

We’d upheave it out. One Heavy inquiry would unfold

If he mightn’t have killed himself he might have taught me:

“you gotta take the bite of bitter with the cold”

.

My Mother could steady things when she told me

When I was ready she told me:

“I know, I know,

With time…

We’ll  heal.

He  was  not  well.

They say  You/

Have his look.

You  know.

You know

I say  you’ll/

have my smile”.

.

.

.

.

 

For always, again, rest in peace, daddy 3/21/1929-5/29/1959

 

 
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