the whole reason to cross allen street is gone

back then

back when there was still a reason to cross allen street

                                            back before berlin

 when she was red bone

 from buffalo       

when she was h i g h yellow            

when it was  ‘if you’re not a staylow then you gotta go home

 and that means you too jared leto’

back then

        one night

                 one little night

i heard a man

        one man

                 a book man

the man from the book store

he was stammering  stomping like he was coming straight outtacompton

       

          spitting and bloodletting

relentless

the first word came first

it came right on the first stomp

it exploded

he said ‘participatory’

yeah  he said ‘participatory’

and then he said it again

and again

and again

until it rocked with an uneven white boy rhythm that took its cue

from when the stomp came down

and that alone

                                   he said it again               and again

‘participatory participatory participatory

participatory participatory participatory

democracy democracy democracy’

yeahyeahyeah

he said

‘participatory participatory

democracy democracy

participatory participatory

democracy democracy’

then some of us started saying it

        and then more of us started saying it

then it was back and forth

‘participatory’

                    ‘democracy’

        ‘participatory’

                                            ‘democracy’

                

the man  said

‘participatory’

listen to this poem

when shaky strangers tell me things

the stupid mustache was a test

but   was it for me

                or for them

reaction was preferred

the honest or the polite

   the careful tweeners

who took a long time

                               to stare

trying to figure out

how much they thought   i’d care

if they told   the truth

whatever that is

preksha laughed

 in that way

the one that says

  what are you doing

 then she said ‘what are you doing’

in the parking lot at bill’s new place

    still spent most of her time

staring

     at me

then i almost said the right thing

george said it was nice to meet me

even though i’ve been twice to his home

and heard his laugh

             big and fat

over the whole of his backyard

    

norman only saw a picture

until late on wednesday evening

before the day he was leaving

which was two days before i was leaving

and neither of us had packed a thing

at least most of my clothes

 were clean

when we met at the place we always met

and the meal was quick

we were done with it

but smiles

    were wide

and even if i couldn’t feel them

all the way inside

the girls still said ‘hi’

like they want you to

    stay

or to come back

 again

some other day

    the ponytail let loose a laugh

the ponytail always laughs

at me

      it seems

but that’s a large part

of himandme

     what i’m looking for

better best to

be ignored

jjb gave two thumbs up

for keeping it til chicago

            even though he couldn’t wouldn’t or shouldn’t  go

    his support was known

which was about as much as could be expected

 since some things changed

waters said it was cowboy-ish

            i said

you’re  cowboy-ish

                   she neglected to reply

but i sensed no conflict

jarral took it all in stride

she did that

 most of the time

  and if cool is a lion

that girl is a pride

we need to get her back

stateside

                        aight
        aight

her friend rj had the curly hair

but she pulled me straight

 by the ear

on hiphop night

in the old neighborhood

where the sweet keeley was last seen

at broken midnight

when the big man

sulked enough

to get it stolen

with housecat hiss

of touch and wah

          a liar’s bliss

he wallowed

in

        it

and this says nothing of

        maccallister

who waited til she knew

then let both barrels go

my dream is still that she’ll whisper

‘close the door

    and tell me secrets

that aren’t true

           anymore’

still   curious looks were

preferable to invisibility

which    if actual

would have been useful

but

in reality

only served to underscore

          the very fear i can’t ignore

that there’s no such thing as the hooker oak tree

         and happiness is just a dream

when shaky strangers tell me things

Drawing by Woody Guthrie

we need the freckles on the twenty third floor

once she’s gone

        she’s gone

no more asking for the straw

             the autopsy was brief and uninvolved  

all topics from the near wall

                     seemed a bit too tall

 to discuss    among those gathered close

         isolation breeds isolation

and only part of it is administration

         the talks are held up by greed and frustration

           and the gaps between differing ideas of what constitutes

                 repayment

the words find me

 i don’t look for them

       but i do know which ones to pick

   and which ones to leave lie   it takes little more than a lifetime to decide

       that yellow turned red    around eleven thirty   that night

she said she thought he died

       it made of fist of her insides

   now deprived of hope

and   home

     suddenly alone

the question comes

what’s the difference between comfortable and defensible

      my blood is thin

i spent most the month of july with a blanket ‘cross my knees

   while every other motherfucker was complaining about the heat

heat worth holding    

                                             trouble looks       interesting 

                   meant in both senses of the word 

                                    as if there are 

                                                      two

and two

                                                               alone

           let it ride   let it fly     i could use the shut-eye

                           i could use 
                                            the warmth

                 we need the freckles on the twenty third floor

The Company of Frans Banning Cocq and Willem van Ruytenburch  1642

by Rembrandt van Rijn  

i always meant to be reputable

ending the fascination with youth

with potential

              in truth

these kinds of things die slowly
       they always act like

                  they don't know me

in the open street

     in open air

near the big concrete

                when i stop to stare

at  the house kept neat

   complete complete

get enough to eat

          but expect to leave

      expect to be

     suspect

to be

        object

to be

          circumspect

at night time

and in the day light

with a smile       lies

    the    boot

        brown

                 eyes

time

     is

tight

      except that

it's not

it is anything

            but

right up to

and until

the clock tick 
                     tock

says time 
                       is

                  up

i always meant to be reputable

      but

will it stay fair

that question knows its answer

     it never

really

    was

and

curtains work wonders    

with whys

           and because