(this poem don't matter much
unless you balk with ***** to essay upon,
thyself, thy valentine failures,
children and ex's who have ex'd you out,
sad love songs
one more time,
even joyous ones,
foolishness human,
then this intro source code,
is an unnecessary winter weather advisory)


a phrase, song~played, scratches,
brain self-commands
via electric synapse
To: the current in-resident body
extrude denude private places

riff,
get to thy work,
decompose on them words:
in the private places*

play with the lowly lowest ranking,
private, who by nature, sees
finer the dirtiest,
privy to the privy,
privilege them
to the most personal,
spit/spill/weep/deep
some or none of it all,
cause the scratch is the
poetic salvation to that
*****~itch, write

the best you get,
dispossess the beastie best
in the pvt. places,
ain't much/no difference
tween beastie and all the crapper rest

draw from the private places,
cast up to light,
revelations devaluations sensations
impolite,
well kept secrets

if you can say it good,
then draw it up from the well
where the private places
were|where sent to drown,
and if you can't,
no bother brother,
after this exculpation excavation,
I'll go back with you
to adding a rock to the
bottom of the pile,
the mountain of superficial crap

this is a very important poem to me,
about me, and how Obama slurred my people. and never apologized

<•>

there are mornings when I wake up
in my nativity,
in my born/bred,
these struggling to be happy,
United States,
strangely hebrew-speaking,
Jamaican coffee
morning-thinking,
tallying up
what I am,
who I am,
commanded to be,
on this Earth

the labels that the
outward-looking apply,
the tags,
that you have caused
yourself to be defined,
been staked
to your claim,
in infamy and in fame,
that you have
by action and indeed,

have allow
to be presented
as entries on your
global entry passport,
with visas from the
lows and highs,
places where
your have sinned and saved,
all the acts accumulated,
and those,
in pain,
you have been a witness to

word titles that
tinge and suffuse,
summation of my presentation,
sampler of words
like
father, poet,
American,
even,
a for-real
community organizer,
and of course,
bien sûr,
a
Jew

the quality of all these life's papers,
which I grade myself,
I,
the harshest marker
of all

once a young man,
safely away in college,
under the fresh-air freedom of the
university's in loco parentis,
in the early years
spent quantifying oneself

nearly fifty years ago,
now he,
revealed and recalled
when
his college typed-letter,
lately uncovered amidst his,
recently passed mother's papers

"Don't know what kind of
Jew
I will be, but be assured,
that I will be a
Jew
all my life"

so here I am doing my post-sabbath,
top of the week,
right it down,
qualifying myself,
coffee enraged engaged,
a new Sunday tally

taking all my terms,
reordering,
re-prior-itizing,
what was prior, first,
is no longer

decades decay,
events sway,
simple words change me, stain me

nearing on five decades later,
when this
son of speakers,
son of humanists and 
son of
 writers,
son of proud
Jews
rewrites his list

today I write/substitute,
a new order,
a tag gladly taken,
a marker given,
some what in pride,
some in shame too,
first and foremost,
à la manière d'Lincoln
I am
of, by and for

"a bunch of folks in a deli"

proud member of them
that so identify,
for they are among those
that shall not perish from the Earth

those
happenstance-not,
bunch of folks in a deli,
I claim as
mine own,
as they would
have claimed me

no subtly professed,
a diminishment intended,
and now
an honorific taken,
Medal of Honor provoked and embraced,
proudly inscribed,
visible on my forehead,
in the black ink of mourning,
a Presidential Cain Citation,
a tattoo of letters,
not numbers,
now moves up to
head of the list,
I am
now and forever,
a member of that corps
(appreciate that double entendre)
I am
Je suis
JE JUIF

*"a bunch of folks in a deli"

(for Ingrid)

sudden like,
no intermission tween
sleepy and pangs~pinging,
rested, then arrested  
no intervening leavening
proper impromptu improper

slip sleep out of bed,
water wash the eyes,
the most private part
of all of them privates

primp the tongue
rinse fresh mint,
musk the body chest,
where hands go to hide
in forests of hair shirts
so the contrast of
smooth shaven
skin fresh cut
never clearer

go down to sandy beach

look for, take the
chances of never,
overturn the stones
protruding inviting asking
for discovery

each a chance of ever
each was a chance of never
all now mine,
sanded smooth pebbles
in sea~lotion washed,
fine coolness on warm hands,
brain thought-full-ness simplify,
so beautiful so beautiful
mantra unmasking human peculiar
oils essential

she turns towards...
mostly sleeping
logic dictating queries of ascertain-meant,
time and temperature, place?
hands answer all
here and now and the heat
of jeopardy

collect the pebbles in pockets
till overflowing overturning spilling unaided,
you cannot find the line that defines
the separation of
beach and sea,
church and state,
for it has been washed away by
uncovering discovering derisking
so many chances of never,
so many pebbles of ever

with toy shovel fingers,
warming eye scalpels cutting exploration,
exploiting the workers and the queen bee,
hidden in moist sand
looking for undiscovered poems
in skin folds,
no castle building just hole digging,
treasure seeking thrilling pebbles finding
head dizzy sun hot stones overturning
finding noisy ones where once
sleep suspending breathing quiet stored

you don't waste time editing,
just dig and spill,
just laser and spit
metaphors
that lance and crash - mixing into each other in confusion,
uncaring, for nonetheless,
clarity converts chances
of never
into ever,
integrating the what ifs
into what is...

in low tones
caressingly whispers,
use me,
write yourself

pick me to pick you
up,
only with me,
thru my ink flowing
down

pen thy pen.

pen thy image,
craft is the pen,
pen is thy craft,
craft thy image,
you were, you are,
created by,
created for,
picked by,
picked for,
pen

we fought, we sweated,
anger spent,
tissues dispensers emptied,
broken vase,
from a cheap Far East jaunt

have had enough,
now let's just
make love
and
salvage Sunday
rebalance the weekend,
our younion

sons,
you don't particularly like me
no, don't run, it's ok,
no blame tendering,
my weaknesses well exposed,
can visible well
historical multi-reasons why

I don't lament,
don't let it better dismember me,
for always I love you,
a platform beneath,
unasked, sacrifice, so much messed up,
being a parent don't come with
training wheels

so blame the old guy
understandable,
grade him D ad

forget eyes whys
don't lament,
being a parent,
sworn to be
a platform underneath
in perpetuity
and so be it,
be it,
I will