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MIPOesias ~ ISSN 1543-6063 Volume 17 ~ Summer 2004 |
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NEW COUNTRYThe current runsagainst the hours, pulls the bodyover and over, takes nothing from mebut a sky so black, stars so small, timeholds me and I driftMiami BeachMink stoles and pearlsOn Collins AvenueWhere did you eat?Fun Fair, Pumpernick’s, Wolfie’sWere you drunk? Smashed?Really smashedI fell from my motherhead first. 3 years later landed in a caseof Coca-Cola bottles. 50 stitchesin my cheek. Mother wrappedmy bleeding face, carried meinto the yard yelling,“Oh, my god!" I wasn't goingto grow up perfectLawns,our meadows. Summeritch. Red bug rash. Motherslean over cyclone fences,call their children homeWhen grandmotherdied, no one told meMother and aunt sat on the patiounder a large umbrella cryinguntil the rainy seasonGramps came to liveat our house. Teeth in a glassof water beside his bedeach night. Morningteeth back in his mouth,He didn't say anything3:15, Friday afternoon,Cadillac towing a deep-seafishing boat rolls up toNautilus Junior High. My father,tie loosened, shirtsleevesrolled up, steering. Mother beside himWe pulled away slowlyTrunk full of fishing tackleand hors d' ouvresWORMS/BEERSEE REAL INDIANS!AIR BOAT RIDES!ALLIGATOR WRESTLING!I fished for sharks. Buried a steel hookinto catfish head. Cast a leaded lineinto the dark waiting for the slow crankof the reelBroken potteryon burial moundsSand-fleas. MosquitoesGreen raccoon eyesLogger head. Mullet ThrashThe current throbsagainst a hollow hull, racestoward a full moonHerein the thicket, confusion of cricketsHigh tide. August sloshing between mangroveroots encrusted with barnacles. Luminescentsplash. Black mullet eye through silver veilconsiders meWhat does he wantwith a small Jewish boy?I learnedto keep the fat black juice under my lipOyster, beer, jokesabout money-lending jewsMass in my chest. Stones and thunderThunder, toads and lice. Snakefrom staff. Wheat to dustcarried in the windAt seder, my Catholic Aunt Shirley sings"When Irish Eyes Are Smiling"Through loose teeth, my youngest cousin asks The Fourth QuestionAnd bread is stoneHerb bitterHoney is hopeSalt, tears againLamb is bloodSo The Angel of Death will pass overAnd a plate for ElijahTarpon creases, boilsjolts out of the seainto sunlight. HangsA trophy over Florida room sofaCinderblock housein sandy earth. Redand yellow hibiscusOrange crotons. Suburbanislands of Miami BeachI was just learningto speak Spanish when Che Guevaraand Comrade Fidel hacked thoughthe green undergrowth. No more sapphirerings and Panama hatsThe Golden Years of Havanaend with butchered chickensin a New York hotelMy friend Henry's mom and dad arrivedbefore the Bay of PigsBrought money before the Bay of PigsHenry's dad ran off with the moneybefore the Bay of PigsHenry and his mom discovered Americabefore the Bay of PigsHenry and I got into lots of troubleFloating on my back in a Bay of PigsNew CountryHenry’s Cuban friendscalled him Enrique. Kidsfrom South Beach, North BeachFried Bananas, bagels, cream cheeseCubans were Jews, tooNew Country. Kreplachblack beans and riceCuban kids played baseballCuban kids could swim. Cubanson the football team. Miami Beach Highmight win a game against redneckHialeah grit-eaters. Old goldand pearls. White Cadillac. Whitetrousers White shoes. Silver-haired men Silver-haired women. PinkFlamingos and martinis on red-tiled patioat noon. Scotch at 5. Splash of ChanelAnd before the 6 o'clock newsthe accountant callsI watched from a distanceSaturday in The Bingo Bar"Bums, all of them," grandfather saidLooking through a hole in his office wallat the bartender servinga hedge of flowered shirts"They rob me blind"I go across the streetto the movie theaterPolar bears on soda cupsIn December,when grandfather diedit was 80 degrees7:30 am, Henry, Lindsay and I get intomy green, wood-paneled station wagonWe're not going to school, we're goingto Georgia. Take the turnpike northCream on the radio, “W-F-U-N,“FUN IN THE SUN RADIO”Henry rocking to the music. Lindsay and Istoned on each other, 480 miles fromgreen corridors of Miami Beach HighSchool’s out in 15 minutes, andwe’re in trouble. On our way to GeorgiaRadio cranked up"The crystal ship is being filled"FRESH SQUEEZED ORANGE JUICEWe cross the border at 6 p.m."Hello, mom?""Where are you? Come home, dinner’s ready""I can't, ma...""Why not?""I'm in Georgia"I hear the phone dropDad says, "What are you doing son?"I don't know"This is the sterling silver spoonThis is cocaineThis is Black BeautyFaster than timeThis is the HypnoticThe Sleeper drops inThis is Window PaneWindow PaneThis is the needleTie and flameSix pack you won't feel a thingInfection spreads throughthe body faster than a drugYou tear off piecesof flesh. Tear at everything tightaround you. Nowhere to go, nothingto do. A lifetime peelsfrom your face. The skinyou're left with becomes an addictionThe Angel of Deathpasses over our housein the middle of nightOver our houseToad, Bufus, deeppoisonous song on the lawnNew CountryI won't wear a gold necklaceDrive a Cadillac or drink scotchI'm the Marlboro Man. Drink whiskeyFuck whomever I likeNew CountryWhen Lindsay killed herselfI was six thousand miles awayworking things outSlowly the poison, the whole bloodstream fills.It is not the effort nor the failure tiresThe waste remains, the waste remains and kills--William EmpsonNew Country. Ten thousand islandsEndless saw grass strands. Henrytelephones from Cincinnati"Hey, man, you’re talking to the daddyof a brand new little girl!"New CountryEnrique lives, Che is deadNew CountryI'm working it outWhere have you been my darling childrenwhile I have been away in the west...--John SebastianAcross Pecos River, full moonscapedark blue body of sleeping womanUp windblown desert highwayAlbuquerque, New Mexico, then westacross Sierras, down through glacial passinto Sacramento Valley. Eyes opento a living vision of The WestGolden Gate, Pacific RimDeep and breathing fringeof Asia, Tibet and Mt. FujiThe loose spray, the cold disciplined current.
Hawk vision. Fish vision. Mother visionFather vision. Brother and child visionTelevision"Mom?""Where are you?""Home..."Dad gets on the phone"How was your dinner last night?""Good"'What did you eat?""Brisket, sweet potatoes, matzah""Did you say the prayers?""I always do"In the heat, palm trees swayabove a street lined withpink oleander
Poem © Michael Rothenberg 2004. All rights reserved.
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Poetry
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