Gripped

Brutus wears
his mask of Mother-Love
on the right
hand as a gnarling back,

citing the hallucinatory
invasiveness
of the beginning
of the Ides’ morning
schema.

Cut-curling, cutting three
letters
shaped a ghosts’
horn (of the farm of Priapus)
configured as
regicidal remedy,

a bend in prayer
is rough coinage to
Ptolemy’s unbidden tether;
and knowing

apology, scraping
vapor at orange
dawning of
red awaiting throat.

Detainees

Elastic laments stretched
thick as
guardians,
shelter for the bombed,

wound mess
shuffling streetside
in
Sana’a-Chicago-favelas,
subbing Sahara

where Wolf’s

voice sucked Memphis sweet
and preserved,
jarring amber molasses
hobbled,

dimples

of the smiling, of
the wounded,
unshaven grimace.

Pulled-in, parked
against the cantor’s
alone,
bifurcated lung,

the one from
the next town
over,

a red freighted rig,
fecund in yield in
issues of political economy
sub-texted

aligning margins
unpublished,

corpus
of hand-wrung epodes
by New School emigre

dropout

collectives, non-membered, no
time for the welt
of Herr
Heidegger’s being.

In summer frequenting
Avenue A Yiddish productions
of Kazan’s
Streetcar, starring

the great Tomashevsky, in
a delicatessen of
a role, as Blanche DuBois,

a soupy coffee after

by the brickled joint
ovens, donning cloaks
of sacrifice, toasted over
an iron-mesh,

corner trash can and some
Yucatan
gourmets boiling
a found IRA
potato,

stretching out their good
pitching arms,
conniving,

pebbles to a nail
of the seductive highway
Satan,

honoring the earnest,
irrefutable,

onset of Eid.

Mocking On

What was it, literally, ever offered, at-their
epoch of shame, an elliptical equating of

Olympus-less Polyphemus,

positioning, suspect to be conferring, four
randomized atoms, a veil and a sea or

an alighting of the aye, a dry outer bank,
and Irene’s mother dipped into narrative

context, or a T-bone, of double-breasted
neck, one grave voice—in spirited sleep.

And remote, a cupola that gathers quantity,
neighbor-ling, a spike of hackles,

a repeating quotient (captive foreshadows),
honing forward our lank, egregious,

amnesiac orality.