Just a Normal Any Evening

The silence draped around my shoulders, 
like my father's worn overcoat, 
and enveloped me 
in cozy, comforting warmth, 
dispelling the bitter chill 
of the shouting, screaming, and slamming
that slipped through the cracks 
around my parents' bedroom door; 
before I ran out of the house 
and down to the end of the street, 
where I spent another
after supper time
in solitude,
watching the other families,
through the eyes of their houses,
laughing in the blue light of the TV screen,
eating popcorn.

(1996)

Sexuality and Gaea


A kiss --
A rose --
A perfect shaped tear;
separated for an eternity,
it was really just a year.
Then the grave opened
wide its black, toothless mouth
and swallowed.
Within the organic
mechanics of the earth
flesh melted into flesh,
bone united with bone,
and two were once again
one.

(1996)

Medusa

I have had ten-thousand lovers,
graven images all;
drawn forth from the boundless reaches 
of earth, of ocean, of sky;
lured by bardic musings,
empowered by will;
fallen from grace,
cast down from life:
the penance for over-much confidence.
My Grecian beauty:
smooth, silky raven s locks,
tanned, seamless skin,
bright eyes and pungent lips --
my face: my pride;
my figure: my joy;
my airs: my fatal flaw.
Too soon youth succombs
to the encroachment of the years,
time swiftly renders
judgment,
perfunctorily punishes
vanity.
Beauty fades,
superficial qualities
grasped too tightly
slip away.
Oh! Folly to treasure
what cannot be kept!
Once shiny rich tresses,
now are streaked with wires --
a hundred ravenous 
raving snake tendrils.
Once taut flesh loosens,
bends and folds,
pales and spots.
The starry orbs sink.
The rosebuds wither.
Hideous incarnation!
Unabiding fool!
Did you really believe
that the fates would pass you over?
Did you really hope
that youth's sweet song would not surrender?
Corrupted bits of yesteryear
torture me in their inefficiency
to reincarnate the sweet lamentations
composed by tender languid lovers,
they are now but ghost
whispers in my memory.
Was it true? or merely
ancient fancy
that lusting youths
competed for my favor --
no matter,
they are gone.
I am
surrounded
only
by the gray statues of the dead.

(1998)

The Rape of  Talk 


The Afternoon Hour is quiet and still,
Housewives concentrate to learn the real Deal;
No Clothes washing, no ironing, not now,
No cooking, no cleaning,  no way, no how.
In pink foam Curlers and tatty Bathrobes,
In daily Rite, in their Mobile Abodes,
They hibernate the Post-Meridian 
Hours, with faithful, hypnotic Devotion
To the King of Talk, who, with Mic in Hand
Mediates every weird Fight in the Land.
Not Oprah, not Leeza, Not Jenny Jones,
But he who reigns over all the Bones
Dragged out of every secret Closet.
Every Fetish, every Feud he ll get
To the Bottom (scrapes it if you must know)
And a Fight (and many Bleeps) every Show
We'll see, even if no Resolution
Forms,  even if the wild Guests no Lesson
Learn, we ve been entertained by things we never
Thought or dreamed, until came Jerry Springer,
We'd see on national TV. Daytime
Would never be the same.  Without a Rhyme,
Without a Reason, America it 
Seems, loves to see our Neighbors  Trash and Sh-t
Loves the lurid Details, we're Gossips all.
We have no Shame, the Perverse will enthrall.
And so we remain to TV Sets glued,
Watching the enactment of Fam'ly Feud. 
He slept with his Brother's Wife late one Night,
The Brother leaps to feet, ready to fight.
But wait, what's this? The Wife's a Born-Again
Go-Go Dancer Snake Charmer Lesbian!
At the End, the much-used Wife leaves with her 
Former Best Friend's Dance Instructor's Sister
And the Brothers unite in fraternal
Bond. Tomorrow we'll see two from Senegal
Who claim Mar1lyn Man5on to be God
And another who claims (s)he s nothing but Fraud.
An angry Mother, next Week, will try to
Prove her Child is the Offspring, UFO
Conceived, of a Man who died three hundred
Years ago. Oh, yes! and, hey, by the way
If you're a shy Lion-Tamer who's gay,
If you're a Librarian who cannot read,
If you're a Great-Grandmother hooked on Speed,
Give us a call! We'd like to have you on.
Don't hesitate to cuss and fight, it's fun!
The more bizzare and the more violent
The higher the Ratings get. Go on, vent,
Rant, rave, scream, fuss, throw Chairs across the Stage!
We want Unpredictable, we want Rage!
We edit, so say what you like, do any
Thing; your Skin makes us a pretty Penny,
Go ahead: undress, flash, moon we don t care!
The more we can't show the more they love it out there!
No matter that no one is ever heard,
No matter each Episode gets more weird,
No matter no Guest ever actually talks,
Because in this Game it's Money that talks.
Say whatever you like, we'll stay on Air
Long as the Cash continues to be there.
To end, as Jerry does each Episode
With his Thoughts and Advice in somber Mode,
Talk once was about Peoples'  Opinions,
Debate, Issues, intriguing Discussions;
Now Talk is Absurdity, lewd and crass,
We see Problems are solved by kick'n Ass,
We forget that Diplomacy should be
Personal and foreign Policy.
But we like Drama and we like Intrigue,
And government Stuff is out of our League.
Springer may be common and may be low,
But it is, after all what we all know.
And so to appease those easily shock'd,
Simply change the Channel, it isn't lock'd
Onto this Stuff. That's all the Justice you
Can expect. It is after all well due
To be said, that whatever they may show,
It is still nothing but a stupid Show.
Jerry is popular, but to his Name
A Star he ll not have on the Walk of Fame.
This Brilliance is not eternal in kind,
But will shimmer, sputter and fade with Time.

(1998)