I



today

on Sixth Avenue



sports coat-

junkie-man

on the same oldschool

skateboard as ever  ragged



wheels but a beautiful

deck, wood  smooth



as if the plank had

been tumbled in the sea



his right leg

a manic pendulum



skinny-looking

but strong



under thin

jeans  hard to believe



he's still

around



after all

these years





II



nine days

into thirty



and  already

a gray hair



that won't sit down

that springs up



from under

my palm



in the morning

in the mirror



a kind

of private joke



time marching on





III



once my  bedroom  

caught fire



in summer

orange flames



floated up

like feathers



exotic  hypnotic

messages



I stood staring

several seconds



when the lights

went out I found



the dog but the cat

would not come



from behind

the mantle mirror



fragile as china  she

knew she wouldn't



make it  in the flashing

darkness I saw



my smoky

silhouette



backing

out of the room





IV



"The Giglio (structure)

was built in Paulinus's honor...

After his death the carrying

of the Giglio was dedicated

to the sacred penance for the souls

in purgatory and the remission

of sins of the living."



        -112th Annual Feast

        of Our Lady of Mount Carmel

        and Saint Paulinus





V



in the bathroom

on 10th Avenue      pink tile



and a view of Hell's Kitchen

my mother pierced



my ears with a needle

and thread  I cried



in rage but later

admired the loose red



loops until each

wound had healed



and was studded

with a dot of gold





VI



My mother's mother told

me not to wash my hair



on those days

on those days



she said shaking

her head  the natural



balance of oils

in the scalp



is disturbed by water

its atomic opposite



that pale lather

strips and the sweet



masking scent of Breck

can throw the body off



throw the body off

she said don't



throw your body

like that





VII



106 men

in a village



were taken

to a barn



and shot

last month



an old man

in a wool cap



told

the story



to the News

putting



each man's

photograph



on the grass

for the camera



he said the names

of the men



not stopping

even as



the lens

moved away 





VIII



a friend once

booked a red-eye



flight first-class

from Helsinki



in the middle

of the night   leaving



her sleeping husband

unaware   sardonic



as ever

as they lifted



her to the stretcher

so she wouldn't miss



the plane  seat on the aisle

meal intact



cut tumbler

of ice glinting



bright next to mini

cutlery on the plastic tray



frantic the whole way

making calls to old friends



from 30,000 feet

she tried to trip the Queen



of Sweden on her way

to the bathroom



time froze

as she watched



the Queen fumble

for her crown  failing



to fall down or find

humor she vanished



through a folding door

marked vacant





IX



At Long Last, A New Sun

With a Family of Planets



       -The New York Times, April 16, 1999