Volume 16 ~ Spring 2004 ~ ISSN 1543-6063

DAVID LEHMAN

Riverboat Gamble

"Darwin predicted you," Jim Cummins said.
"You’re in the theory." His assailant fled.

People clapped. They wanted Jim to make a speech.
"My subject is Cincinnati," he said. "Do I dare to eat a peach?"

Into the room flew the fly, humming. "Place your bets."
"Shall we gamble everything on red?" Jim asked. I said, "Let’s."

It was a hot day in the Queen City.
Pitching for the Reds was Walter Matthau playing Walter Mitty.

When Jim got audited by the IRS, he cursed:
"It was like having an autopsy without being dead first."

A world-class wise-ass, he volunteered to prepare my return.
I pretended to do a slow burn.

But I didn’t mind. If life was a riverboat gamble, you could count me in.
Jim nodded. It was exactly as predicted by Darwin.



Poem in the South American Manner

Miro painted the sea’s curtain. I said go
ahead, abuse the laws of perspective,
choose not to lose your will to live.
Stay sober and you can join me, bro.

At the volcano, where we defied the embargo,
all bullish bravado, it was our turn to wait,
confuse the nine muses with fate,
drink cheap wine, memorize Vallejo.

No gringo fruit company can make a difference
to one who comes bearing no present,
wearing no tie, just work shirt and pants.

Ante up to play the future. No essence
precedes your last-chance existence
in my country of sugar cane and no parliament.

Poems © David Lehman 2004. All rights reserved.

Duncan Hannah
www.jamesgrahamandsons.com

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