and I moved
but not towards him


Serge J-F. Levy, Houston Street, 2004

The Past Cannot Be Returned
-- Richard Brautigan

The umbilical cord
cannot be refastened
and life flow through it
again.

Our tears never totally
dry.

Our first kiss is now a ghost,
haunting our mouths as they
fade toward
oblivion.


After Mayakovsky
-- by Denis Johnson

It's after one. You're probably alone.
All night the moon rings like a telephone
in an empty booth above our separateness.
Now is the hour one answers. I am home.
Hello, my heart, my god, my president,
my darling: I'm alarmed by the alarm
clock's iridescent face, hung like a charm
from darkness's fat ear. This accident
that was my life will have its witnessess:
now, while the world lies whooly motionless
and sorry in a crapulence of stars,
now is the hour one rises to address
the ages and history of the universe;
I swear you'll never see my face again.


Tale
-- by Frank Stanford

The maid used to pull the drapes
So I could see dust

When it didn't rain
I bought gum and worked in the boat
There was a locked up shack down the road
With a stack of records in the bedroom

We could tell when strangers were around
From what they drank

The girls waited in the orchards
There was no need to lie