an old man
hunched and wrinkled
warped inward with old age worries
sits staring at a large flatscreen
the black rectangle reveals rotating images
of human bodies playing games
and human heads talking at one
there are also random brief vignettes
with people offering objects
one needs to buy to live
the man is also a black screen
but of an entirely different kind

just in case
you have been waiting,
someday never comes,
it’s always now,
it never changes
from that, so stop
saying it, someday
I’m going to do
this or that,
someday never comes

my questioning,
directed at myself
and the answer simp,
not necessarily simpatico,
cause the answer is either
today, or never,
could be
both or n-either

yeah,
of that age,
when I awake
first two words are
*******, again?

and
if I hurry,
one piecework,
one mo’ poem,
hurried,
may yet be
vented,
scurried,
aired out
or for
quick disposal
sad dispatch

one mo’
disgorged poem
within and withouted,
either side
of midnight

been gorging
on letters ever since
They fed me
sugared letters
& lemons
for breakfast

and the last twenty
sending them you
in a disembodied
softly softly
voice
no matter how
far your imaginary
ears are from me
Sunday AM 9:52 2/19/25
🥲

an existential question so deep,
it can be answered only by
enumerating a million tiny
words:

in the quiet crackling of a spine & unsticking page noise of an opening of a brand new book, a first of firsts, a thrill for free in any bookstore that is yours now, uniquely and forever

in the upward stroking of a smooth
cheek, by your smallest finger, upon
a newborn’s face, your youngest child’s
newborn, and a rare moment of unadulterated love tinged by
immortality

the smile you retrieve when scratching
that old beloved pet’s face, in the exact
spot only you two know and a long time ago
discovered


patrolling the Promenade, espying an
elderly couple so bundled against the
city’s Arctic cold freeze, that movement nearly impossible, nonetheless holding gloved hands in a manner and a moment describable only as inseparable

letting someone jump in front of you,
at the supermarket or the bank, when
they have only one item to purchase, and you, a dozen or so, but the most important item you really really urgent need you have is to prove to yourself that it is possible to buy more time
for a human

crossing with an elegant eldery woman
across the wilds of First Ave., who insists
she needs no help (ha!), but doing it anyway
by complimenting her candy striped cane,
and being rewarded with a “stop that, or
I’ll be forced to take you
home!”

searching endlessly for  red kidney beans in olive oil in a health store that has no less than 19 varieties of everything, and an immigrant teenager employee tskes you across a cityscape of aisles, turns, niches and alcoves  to the exact spot and item, and you
smile and weep because the beam of their smile at your pleasure lights up two souls
simultaneously

next, herbed flavored tofu?

making a bank teller laugh (a near impossibility) when depositing a very large
check, and when asked if there is anything
else you need, informing that you would like to withdraw half immediately but only if they have a sufficient quantity of extra large size single dollar bills!

a group of privileged upper east side college seniors eating out at a wonderful Italian neighborhood restaurant, talking loudly about their recent travels abroad, and how crazy it is that one cannot get a cappuccino in Italy(!) except at breakfast
(oh, the in-justice)

here I stop, because not a lot, of my reasons
to be brought forth are concluded, but only because  you have started
to feel an urgent need to p-
repare/start your own list, immediately if not sooner to ascertain precisely your own anwer to:
Where
are you
being?

5:48am
NYC
Shabbat, January 18, 2025
18 Tevet, 5785

Jan. 14. 3025
~For vb~

******* watery eyes and haven’t even
gotten even got started, even though you may
have noticed, I’m even reusing the same words over the over/under line again cause I’m thinking, nah, believin’, my words running out is a definite possibility

wait! your
words are fine,
quality ✅,
quantity ✅,
maybe baby, you’ve just run out,
of vision vitamin supplements or your insights, dinted by overexposure to winter
sunlight are inside, festering and pestering to un chill,

and baby, it’s cold gray blustery days and they just want hang out on the inside,
where the lake of caffeine perking, kerning, keeping you, you,

ain’t looking for
a partner, serious loving, even flirtatious
flings don’t mean a thing cause they ain't got that swing, and *** you are unconsciously
borrowing old song lyrics, because the good
stuff is overused, overrated and let’s face it,
fret-tingly overlooked  and worst,
overu s e d

me-being an antique, don’t mean value ain’t necessarily so, just old and all told, and
user up, and the space between lurches,
hits and misses, torrid + horrid, is tiresome,

and maybe,
you’re a waste of space of valuable interpet real estate, that should be chilling in reserve like that last bottle of nouveau Beaujolais from France  circa 1985
or just sinked inked to a stainless steel
grave in a kitchen sink

<^>the possible implications
of such a condition,
beyond complex
volcanic volatility,
as a final
spewing,
until then
I’m stink~eyed,
until
you
ex~stinked
me