CH

Once in a while someone tries

To tell Coleman Hawkins that

He died in 1969. It never takes.

Listen. A few notes drift a bit

Past the minor key they started in

When he played them at Kelly’s

But that’s about it. Somewhere

It is always 1946. The war is over

And the cloud of cigarette smoke

Hanging over the music

Won’t do you a lick of harm.

SECOND FROM THE LEFT, DANCING IN THE STREET FOR AN AUDIENCE OF FOUR CHILDREN

Suspended in midleap you look
To be forty or so. Not old, no;
But not all that young  either.
I like your beaky nose; some day
You may become Margaret Dumont
Eternally perplexed by Groucho Marx
But adoring him all the same. He, too,
Is puzzled that he loves someone
Who will never eunderstand his jokes.

But that will come later. For now,
The problem is that you, along
With three other women in ballet skirts
Jumped in the air just as Andre Kertesz
Snapped a picture. There you hang.
Even Death can't draw you down
Or move one finger of your flat hand.

PREMONITION

Jane Welsh Carlyle had a presentiment

Of her death. Faceless men, she dreamed

Carried a heavy coffin into her room

And rested it before her on the ground.

It was fine thing, made of close-grained wood,

Lined with soft purple velvet. She said

“Are you sure? I do not think Mr. Carlyle

Would spend quite so much money.

Pine is a very decent wood and pine needles

Are well enough for a corpse’s rest.”

Three days later, she had another dream

The same men returned but one of them

Had acquired a face, or borrowed one,

So that he could look chagrined.

“You were right. The coffin was meant

For quite a different Mrs. Carlyle.

If it is any comfort the three monkeys

We were supposed to bring to you

Have brought her no end of trouble.”

BEFORE DAWN

The most important

Poet to emerge

In France since

World War II

Is being pursued

Through the streets.

The least important

Poets to emerge

In France since

World War II

Nod to each other;

Today they’ve found

Something

To write about.

FOR AESRED

One of the perks of being God
Is existing while not existing
Ayin, who does not exist,
Prays to both, but not
At the same time.
Her shadow
Has holes in it
For which it blames
Moths who are sworn
Servants of the locust's god.

NEW NEIGHBOR

Hedge priest's unhappy that hedge witch
Has moved into his shrub but admits
Hedge whore might be worse. Or,
He confides to hedge player over
His hedge beer, very much better.

BRILLO

The Unmoved Mover knows who
Spray-painted it with graffiti.
It has no desires. Still
It wouldn't mind if someone
Scrubbed it clean again.