Terraforming

Adrian Street

Somewhere on the edge of night
where they launch corpses into the sky
still,
I was walking along
you know, just getting used to it
my bloody sneakers sloshing
on the pavement
and filled with ancient fuck-head
walking past and through
all the flat buildings
casting a long shadow over the tirade
calling in some favors
and carring the devils toolbox
It's not so heavy
I stop
under a streetlight
and notice more blood on my knuckles
as a dog barks in the distance
Well, it had been a long day

The parade of experts
you know who I mean
say the body is a lazy slut
and drone on
about all the things that must be done
for the common good
Buy more things
they also tell me
on the blunt edge of
panic

And then there was a crowd and
they seemed accustomed to it so
we all walked past
and through
all the flat buildings

And then we moved in

Back from the GIANT THIRST

yr usually in a bus station
with everything you own
in a small suitcase,
possibily just a shopping
bag &

you are remembering things:
that dead people smell like
liquid paper, the day you
passed out in the backseat
of yr brother in-laws car &
they tied yr shoelaces together

the night some bouncer
threw you through a plate-
glass window & you came up
unscathed on the sidewalk,
laughed & mike said, you
can't hurt crazy people

some of the high-life might
filter in: the evening of the
art opening you pointed
to one of yr paintings & said,
experts can tell which direction
the blast came from by the
spatter array & then

went on to preach that art
should be above all, a gesture
to the spirit. you rub yr face,
say, ugh, always vacillating
between humor & the pompous
& mentally note to never again

let people know what you really
think or where you came from,
what you did in the pyroclastic
cloud.

Bone saw

The world is full of our America,
the hunchback machine of commerce, the crawling from
work cell to home cell, the black history of us exploding

all the time & I understand the promise, laying back, swimming
in these rivers, psychedelic, rabid, naked, all my stupid hope, all
the heart they never took, my fathers blood & his fathers blood, the
day I ran up the beach as fast as I could while Cleo laid in the sun. The
day I left Wendy, it was raining. You learn the blues & insomnia – you learn
the slang & the walk, take the cane out of the closet & hobble down to the
mailbox, say hello to the flatfoot in the unmarked, look at the clouds, wait.

Wait. Call work, “gonna need another day.” Back a twisted mess, pain
shoots down legs, remember angel always on right shoulder, the one thing
kept from Catholicism, only noticed when it’s bad. Think it’s my dads angel
as well as his dads, long string of time, the sober spokes of the wheel, meat
flying into the sun.

Building a backbone #2

i am in a 1964 ford fairlane. my mother
is driving and smoking pall mall and my
father is in short sleeves. one of his arms
is draped across the seat and the other is
hanging out the window. when my mother

stubbs the cig out, she takes a drink of
iced tea and then starts singing. my
father joins in, oklahoma! where the wind
comes blowing 'cross the plain... i look over
at my sister in the back seat, she tries to

sing along but dosen't know the words. it's
a blur out the window and i can feel it. it
starts with tunnel vision and i stop breathing.
i gulp air and my sister says something. my
father asks if i have the bag. yes, i tell him.

my mother says, that boy, to my father and
lights another cig. it's a long drive up to the
grandparents house and the heat is oppressive.
i try to go someplace inside myself that hasn't
yet been built.

Dead of winter

north star hangs
from signpost
at top of adrian
street / empty
beer cases litter
basement floor

i'll go there
run blue on
3-pt carbonless form
in a concrete
building / i'll

go there bug-
eyed / ham-
fisted
dragging my
sky hook through
ursa minor

Edie Sedgwick Assemblage

moves to nyc 1964 in her
grey mercedes benz
into grandmother's 14 room apt
on park ave models for teen
mags dines at l’aventura
seen at the in spots
they name a dance after her
at ondine club
screen tests
uptown girl
in vinyl
uptown girl old money
billy name cuts hair on factory
fire escape with ondine tape-
recording
andy on factory couch
and in his lexington ave
apartment with his mother
who drinks scotch
straight, says
THIS is what you went to school
for?

at dr robert's getting
"vitamin" shots in the butt
mystic bob down on 3rd st
sighing just like a woman
breaks like that
with roger trudeau and rene'
ricard in the kitchen
with gino piserchio
beauty part 2, 1965
in vogue at steve paul's
the scene 46th and 8th ave

in chelsea girls
nico and brigid berlin
living the movie
after the chelsea hotel fire
manhattan state hospital
ciao! manhattan film set
at the bottom of a swimming pool
los angeles
in santa barbara
sneaking out to hang
with junkies in alleys
at the ranch
shock treatment
no motor control left
falling over
talking about california
falling into the sea
in andy's movies
bobby's songs
patti's poems

too much
too fast too
fabulous
till 1971

I never lied to you

It's always been like this
some loser laying on
a bedroll in some ghetto
some woman up there
floating down

nights were almost
magic
days - all out war
i slept with my boots on
bullets winged by,
cops poured in,
dave, in a tub of ice

wendy and i
upstairs
had a couple of cats
a stereo, incense
i showed her my gun,
said
nobody is gonna fuck
with you
anymore
and she said

all right
i kicked stevie
down the stairs -
he said he would come back
to kill me
and i laughed

all you ever have
is your word
and a handfull of years

Jerkwater, PA

at work again
running black ink
this text for an auto show
that brochure
for the ms
society

looking at this book
the dork of cork
when the office girl
walks by
a little chunky
but better
than looking at
the book

she reaches up
to put
another job ticket
on the shelf
and i telephone
yes
i'm an ass-man
honey
somehow
she knows

toy soldiers
crawl out of her asshole
she pinches them
with the thing
and walks away
shitting american flags
bibles
apple pie
this ain't kansas
jimmie stewart
the gipper
several country singers
nascar
and bowling balls

and i can't
look at the book
anymore

Life

Chicken
in a frying pan
in the oven
covered in garlic powder
rosemary
and hot sauce

knuckles of rain
knock
knocking
on my skylight
upstairs
in the bathroom

and the ravens
in the pit
with the groundhogs
out back
soon followed
by night
that's dripping out
my pores
already

while the war
goes on
out there
and

in here

Ozone

40,000 volts
running through
this little green light
that runs under
the powder unit
that disperses
powder
on the sheets
of paper
after they get printed
and before the land
in the delivery unit

they say it works
electrostatically
to lay the powder
evenly
that there's no
amps
there

and I'm a little
hung over
as usual
and say
sooo
I shouldn't touch it?

no
they say

I have this little
notebook
I carry to work
to write down
all the fragments of thought
and I look at it

it says
get toilet paper
and cheese
and I add

how it smells
like
ozone
when the
green light is lit

Rustbelt

pale blue eyes
litter creekbeds
some spill out
onto cameron st
wendy, in her sunday shoes
dances around her living room
a vodka nurse's holiday
alcoholiday
we're always driving
her mother's car
upstate
early fall
hank williams
dead in the
backseat

saturday morning

randomly shaved, showered
attired
devil's grey stubbled chin
a reverse honey mop
if you will

outside,
sausages hang from trees
yes, the one
the kids call
the butthole tree also

project x
is growing
in my basement

steve mcqueen
yells

Spanish Hill

I was drinking beer with the old man
and we were laughing about something

10 hours that day I spent on the dock
unloading cartons of shoes
off the trucks
sorting and stacking them
in the warehouse

Then Dad, laughing
glad that I had a job
He had retired
a few years earlier
and I was about to get fired
from that job
and get kicked out of
his house

But that day
we sat outside
as the sun set
and Mom made dinner

And I was thinking of
Spanish Hill, a place where
he sd he used to play
with his friends
when he was a kid
in Waverly, NY
around 1920
How it sounded like
some magical place
lost in history

Then the sun set and we sat
there in the dark
Mom sd dinner was ready
And Dad sd we should have another
beer together
before we eat
so I went inside and
got them
told Mom
Mom sd Joe come in and eat
and Dad sd
We'll be in soon
Let me talk with my son for
a while

Silver Maples

Outside, format of job &
all this walking
upright
shaved
showered
hand sandwich rolled
up stuck in eye
in place of bomb
strapped around
wacky civilian
takes out
mall atrium.

I see my sister &
realize I do not know
her - she pulls off her
wig & I rub her bald
head - she puts her
wig back on & says
cluster bomb chemo
almost done, come
January I go to light
chemo & I make
light humor

like I always do
to keep the grief
from ripping me
apart & she looks
at me like she never
knew me. Everytime
a star winks, someone
goes to heaven.
What? she asks.

I was looking at the
trees. You remember
when we planted them?
You did, she says, you &
daddy.