It Is There That I Take It Easy

For them, from there after
Grand, and I take it easy.

When asked why and what for,
it is there, that I take it easy:

For singing elegiac parvenus—
Eldridge Street,

For branded pungent leather crowns—
Orchard Street,

For salted tongueside abuelitas—
Ridge Street,

For tough hewn white hoods—
Henry Street,

For black laden day workers—
Cherry Street,

For tic-tac-toe bowler poetry—
Mott Street,

For domino table plot merchants—
Rivington Street,

For cookie cheering bursting babies—
Hester Street,

For them, from there after
Grand, and I take it easy.

When asked why and what for,
it is there, that I take it easy:

For the iron crossing cages
see-sawing Ludlow,

For the barrel balling blue
sweating Essex,

For the fabric bet hedging stacks
layering Allen,

For the hot shoe hole glue
sticking Chrystie,

For the rising fall dancers
mounting Canal,

For the murdered mind murals
fading Pitt,

For the paved metallic mesh
fencing Madison,

For the library lean messiahs
haunting Jefferson,

For them, from there after
Grand, and I take it easy.

When asked why and what for,
it is there, that I take it easy:

For adapting a son of a
moyle—one,

For can-wearing cards, copper
cushions—four,

For our extended family on an
idea—six,

For a lot of spearmint green
silver—ten,

For bed guards up like dental guards
at ten,

For the survivor, her daughter,
her sister—fourteen,

For head-shaken two-door
floor inventions—fifteen,

For a stripling under Eastern dreamways
of cloud—twenty,

For them, from thereafter;
Grand and I, we take it easy.

Unsettling

Congregants!

I ask you now to meditate on when
the ‘back’ collapsed into the motionless

and molded air of the underground
garage singing together as printed

simply on the recently, but unevenly,
pinned-up elevator-bank notices:

“Hear O management office,
Ours is destruction,
Our destruction is one.”

Thank you,

and now turning your crinkled
onioning pages we reach further into this-

our most sanctified of all our
populated lists where by with thin ink

and italicized styled print
we see that old, little, Mrs. Katz

was patiently awaiting a car’s space
adjacent to the heavily rusting iron-entrance

which could only be met after a set

of steps so steep, so dark,
we should all wind up cripples

when
this Mrs. Katz,

allowing her nicotined-shaded and
ratty curtains dating all the way back

to the Kennedy administration

to dip too deep into the dim waxen light
of a second-hand, lately-lit, plastic menorah

while taking up your little one’s
Shabbes slacks and…

but who knew she even drove?

Yet,

it is with this community’s greatest sorrow
we hear this morning’s mourner’s Kaddish

for the memories of all our Mrs. Katz’s and
their maybe make-believe vinyl-top automatic-

windowed meshugas in all those for-certain
bubbe-mayse drenched overcast afternoons

they spent downstairs
sitting tissue-handed among other

ancient yentas cursing through dentures
some river-blown cold when thinking,

and sometimes very loudly saying:

“Who asked them to even come down
in the first place?”

So now,

to our one Father and our eternal
King, we ask of you – O unmetered

light of Jerusalem,

to grant us wisdom enough
as to survive such perils

a solitary celebration of Hannukah
can bring,

and to utilize the strength
with which you vanquished

our proposed maintenance-hike like
the highway robbery it always is,

and yes,
we do beseech you to boldly inscribe
(in ballpoint no less!)

our shortened names on the appointed
lines of such crassly, and rashly, given forms

(the building so cheap they can’t buy a stamp
and leave like such thieves in the night),

and whose subject we can’t make heads

or tails of just yet,
but believe they should or could

possibly concern, of all things,
window guards?

And so let us now respond,
despite our fumbling and fear-

together, with a happy and as always
a healthy:

“Ahh-ahh-meyn.”

Division St. Row(Fish)

Guppying, grappling,
in behesting a glass-

parallel planular fleeted
with a white-blue, down-

slope recoiled on
that ’45,

roiling sink edged
over-above mind’s

illustrated skate black
(nullity under flesh-flap),

filigreeing-on an empty oracular
lime-limbed socket stop.