Babylon Platform 2A

Rain
Cools off world
Finds home
In cracks and dimples
Concrete gives back
Slowly
To the atmosphere

Shaded accordingly
It speaks in patterns
Where time plays longer
Before disappearing into thin air
--
5.31.08

Like Galileo

With my ass dangling above a toilet
In the library
I think about my bag as a bomb
Someone eyeing it
Outside the bathroom door
Style: Messenger
Make: Land's End
Toilet seat: where my End Lands
But not in a single occupancy WC
Here I let it hang above
Hunched like an animal
Or a downhill skier

Crossing the street
I realize
I can never tell
If those childhood drink containers
The ones with the foil tops
Are meant to resemble barrels or grenades
I had always thought of them
As flavor grenades
Syrupy
Unnaturally colored
Throat burning
Flavor bombs
I would have never thought them to be
Barrels
And why would I?

As a child
I might have never taken a crap
In a library
Since I was bashful
But now
I drop bombs
Outside the door
In all the isles
And inside my private resting place

Someone knocked on the door
I said, "in a minute"
Like I was a star
In a dressing room
Being given "five"
As opposed to the five
You might give a friend
A high five
Fingers making contact
Four or five at a time
My friend the grenade
My friend the toilet paper
This is the second time
I have been to the library this week
And both times
I have left gifts
Maybe it's my special place
Maybe it's a drop zone
Last time I noticed a bag left outside the front doors
I alerted the bald man
Whose voice was connected
To my five minute call
The short-sleeved
Beige shirt, brown tie type
You can never be too careful these days
People are dropping bombs
--
5.21.08

Stacked Against

I can't win
I tried to get famous
I attempted to borrow a copy of
The Best American Poetry 2007
And the Poet's Market 2007
Only
The lady at the desk
Told me
My library card expired in February
And I owed fifty cents
The fifty cents she allowed me to pay
But the books would have to stay
Until I rectified the situation
With my native branch
Which is to say
I will not be getting famous
Today
--
5.13.08

Sanctuary

I suppose they were praying
Statues themselves
Looking up at the motionless figure
Gesturing
With open hands
Forever

Other than their lips
Frozen amidst the greenery
They are silently watched
By me
Unabashed
Through the library window

Possibly concerned
The grey-haired lady looks behind her
One hand clutching a rosary
I looked up and they were gone
My sanctuary
Still growing
--
5.12.08

Campbell McGrath

Campbell McGrath
Has stolen my words
Not really
But that fucker
has sniffed out my hunger
More genius than a chipped-tooth rat
The trail of anxiety
Is a bonnet
I wish to remove
Leaving ribbon's rough edges
Chewed and gnawed
Frilly and compostable
I am my own illusion
Basking in the break of a page
I need a map
Back home
Some college kid who died
Took me with him
I looked peculiar
Now I spit marbles
--
5.12.08

Bedtime

Intertwined arms; wife
Dog in crotch
Roof could cave right in
She says, "I'm so comfortable"

Elbows locked, warm
Dog at feet
Beam centered over head
Neck cramps

Shoulders unraveled, shifted
Dog and wife twitch
Collapsing heavens
Dreams of squirrels and Chita
--
5.12.08