Chana had a bike
and I had a scooter
she moaned a lot

and I did not
she wore clothes
her mother said

she had to wear
I wore
what was left to wear

from the day before
she loved sweets
and ice lollies

I loved licorice sticks
and sarsaparilla
she  hated vegetables

and meat pies
I hated liver
and fish with eyes

she said
why don't you
go play elsewhere

and leave
my brother to me?
go ask your brother

I said
and then we'll see
he said not her but me

so Chana went off
in a huff
riding her bike

like a bat
from Hell
Chana

was my best friend's
sister not
(thank God) my girl.

Chana, having made love
with young Baruch, went
to get more wine. Did she
need to get another? She

thought, she was old enough
to be his mother. The LP of
Bruckner he had brought
still played on the hifi; she

preferred Mahler’s fifth.
The kitchen light had a
mellow glow. She poured
more wine into the two

glasses and returned to
the bed. He was laid there
like some young prince,
proud and youthful, head

full of ideas, morals gone
to the wind, seemed happy
to have had her and sinned.
She put down the glasses

and climbed into bed. Him
and his Marxism, she thought
as he talked of Das Kapital.
She placed her hand on his

pecker, life enough yet,
stirred, moved. She could
smell the *** in him; the stir
of a young stallion. Her long

ago husband was never like
this even in his youth; she
was well rid of him, him and
those airhostesses, those

whom he said he had quite oft
and where. She smiled at young
Buruch lying there wine in hand
talking of a revolution that would

never come, his pecker stirring,
his words becoming slurred with
the taking of wine. That first time
he had her on the sofa; oh, that

took her back some. He drained
his glass, put on the side. He was
young enough to be her son, she
mused, watching him stir and

prepare, her young stallion with
hazel eyes and dark brown hair.

Beyond the pram sheds
Chana rode her bike.

I was with Helen
watching from the balcony
of the flats.

Rides well,
doesn't she?
Helen said.

I watched
as Chana rode
around and around
the pram sheds.

Wish I had a bike,
but my parents
can't afford one,
I said.

Mine neither;
even the doll's pram I’ve got
is from a jumble sale.

Chana rode down the *****
and out of sight.

What about Battered Betty?
where did that doll come from?

My grandmother
gave it to me;
I think it was hers.

Where do you
want to go?
I asked her.

What about the park
and ride on the swings?

Sure, fine.

So we walked
down the stairs
and out through
the Square;
the morning
sunshine warming;
other kids playing
here and there;
the baker's
horse and cart
parked by the wall
of the other flats.

The park was busy;
the swings
were all occupied;
the slide and see-saw
were also engaged.

We waited,
sitting in a seat nearby,
she talking of wanting
a new doll's pram
she'd seen in a shop
and I listening,
taking in
her two plaited bunches
of brown hair;
her thick lens glasses
and us
being there.

I was in the laundry room
sorting through
some old guy's washing

when Chana came in
and closed the door
behind her
with her plump ****

fancy seeing you in here
she said
she had her hair
in a kind of Beehive style
her big blue eyes
were ******* me

got to get this washing on
Sidney gets through
so much in a day
I said

she walked around me
and went to the window
and stared out
at the kitchens
over the way
then turned
and faced me

you look
good enough to eat
she said
especially
your lovely thighs

yes well
I am rather *******
at the moment Chana
but maybe
another time

the washing machine
came to the end
of its cycle
and I took out
the wet washing
and dropped it
in a large white basket
then put in
Sidney's soiled clothes
and put in the soap powder
and closed the door
and pressed the button

can't spare me
a little time?
she said

she was behind me now
and as I turned
she pressed herself
against me
her full bust
was pressed
against my chest

I’ve things to do
I said

she put her hands
around my waist
and hugged me close

I know you have
she said sexily
her breath
eased out
her words
and they floated
on the air

look Chana
I need
to get down to business
George is waiting
for his bathe
and I need
to run the bath for him
I said

you need
to get down to business
with me
she said

she placed her hands
around my thighs
she kissed me
on the lips
my pecker moved
my eyes closed

I opened them
when her hands
touched my ****

not now Chana
go look after
one of the old dames
I’m sure one of them
needs to bathe

O forget them
this is now
they're yesterday

no they need you
I can wait
I said

she released me
disappointedly
and stood gazing
at me

don't forget
to come around tonight
she said
and bring
a bottle of *****

sure
I said
going out the door
I’ve nothing else
to do or lose.

Bring some wine around
Chana said
and I’ll put on
the music

and take off
some clothes
so I took some wine
(red she liked best)

and she put on the Mahler
and we sipped our wine
and she brought out
some small cakes

those fancy things
with small cherries on
and we ate and talked
and I listened to the Mahler

and looked at her
sitting there
with her big blue eyes
and that beehive

hair style
and her plumpish frame
and she said
how's the writing going?

not bad
still typing away
still learning my craft
she put her hand

on my thigh
and said
how about I
show you my craft?

I finished off my fancy cake
and drained my wine
(two glasses after)
and she took me

to her bedroom
with the big double bed
with purple sheets
and cover with large flowers

a picture or two
on the walls
and from the other room
the Mahler still played

and she lay on the bed
after *******
and I looked out
onto the evening sky

and stars and moon
and street lamps
showing a young couple
going by

and I was there with Chana
and she waited there ready
like some big mountain
waiting to be to climbed

and she said
aren't you coming on over?
sure
I said

and began *******
to the distant Mahler
the final movement
of the 2nd symphony

and went on over
and she said
how do you want me?
I told her how

and that was it
we made love
as the Mahler ended
the other room quiet

the far off sound
of a barking dog
from the window
the pale moon

quite bright
and we made love
( sans Mahler)
for most of the night.

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Not doing a whole helluva a lot
Waiting for something that never comes
Bored. Tired. Angry.
Wishing we could talk

Brown Buddha statue
Kamakura snow
O we O we O
53 and falling

Mind on the month of May
54 and forming
Quiet green couch
Long live Lina and Doon!

Death comes for the Archbishop
Si San Salvador
Cam plays indoor soccer
Only silence. Lamplight rain.

                   Beltane?

Duck/Rabbit
BY CHANA BLOCH
What do you remember? When I looked at
his streaky glasses, I wanted
to leave him. And before that? He stole those . . .

All you think about is ***
said Chana

she lay there
on her white sofa
wine glass half full
in her plump hand

not so
I said
I think about
other things as well

such as?

Philosophical subjects
the way society works
how deep is the ocean
and ***
I said

in that order?
she asked

not always
in that order

but I bet ***
is near the top end
isn't it?
she sipped her wine
and gazed at me

more the bottom end
I said

the Mahler was playing
in the background
on her Hi-Fi

do you write poems
about ***?

sometimes
I said
I sipped whiskey

she turned onto her back
and sipped more wine
what's the best ***
you've ever had? she said

the Mahler symphony ended
and silence came

the record's done
I said

what do you want now?
she said

how about the Delius
I brought you?

she sighed
and went to the Hi-Fi
and took off the Mahler
and put on the Delius LP
and then went back
to the sofa
and lay down again

is that all right?

her white
plump thighs spread

I liked how
the Delius began
soft and open
the flutes taking
the melody

sure
I said

there was a dimple
on her chin
and her blue eyes
were wide as oceans

all you think about is ***
she said

I gazed out
of the window
at the darkening night

I guess so
I said
I guess you're right.

Eating Babies
BY CHANA BLOCH

            1
. . .

Rick Steves in Uppsala
Ordinary Mary
I eat Chana Masala
I read Irish fairies


Arthur Edens reversaleth
Michael Clayton sees
I walk alone in winter woods
I pray upon my knees

               For Scott. Please.

Thomas More and Erasmus
Utopia. In Praise of Folly.
Get your adverbs here
Hey lolly lolly

Leonard Cohen saw the Future
Maybe I did too
Charlotte and Bob in Tokyo
In Kyoto one not two

I like miso soup
I like chana masala
I pray to Mother Mary
Mohammed prays to Allah

Oh those minarets!
I teach Islam in Taipei
I imagine Istanbul
Still I say xie xie

          Water Way

Got my mind on Pythagoras
Mathematical transmigration
37. 72.
Taipei 101

Haven't been to India
Do eat chana masala
Slumdog Millionaire
Light of a thousand suns

Vienna aglow in snow
Ludwig Wittgenstein
Almost like a fairy tale
I fly back to DC

Religions in other regions
Nothing is eternal
If I get my car
Nightdrive quietly

    South China Sea

Shiva on my mind
Carolina blue
Lake Linganore
Doo Wah Diddy Do

I like mango lhassis
Also chana masala
Saw the movie Gandhi
Have not been to Walla Walla

Shiva is auspicious
Both married and alone
At times I draw closer
I threw a Rolling Stone

           Charlotte!

The religious emotions are intense ones
I have them too
But like everything else they fade
Do wah diddy do

My sons at play in the surf
Knee deep, me in sunlight
Stockholm in the day
Taipei taxi twilight

Vegetarian tacos
Tasty chana masala
Hagia Sophia
Rumi. Mohammed. Allah.

Time is not a line
But we do come to an end
Sent him many things
Hope he is still my friend

               Y Wend

no grand purpose
a little daily life
a little chana masala
to sleep perchance to dream

                 home team

Standin' on Highway 61
Wonderin' what to do
Along comes a spider
Sees you George W.

Northbound 35
Hotel room for 2
A little chana masala
Ever ancient, Ever new

Route 66
Me and my Darlene
Gonna get my kicks
Rothko blue and green

95 south
Soon St. Augustine
Satellite Beach
Do you see what I mean?

                 3717

Not much innocent in this old world
Less in the USA

Dragon Scroll gently unfurled
Nothing left to say

Funerals and funeral homes
The silence of the Night

Pope Francis, the Gesu in Rome
Sor Juana's mystic flight

             Chana Masala
          Vegetarian's Delight

Nothing supernatural
Though I have wished. I have wished.

Tasty chana masala
My favorite Indian dish

Tonight the gentle rain
Ease my frightened mind

Slept all afternoon
I could never find

             Dreamtime

I keep on writing
Not really sure why
Politics portends
Exoplanet Sky

One for my brother Scott
One for brother Ry
Time tick tocks
George W. Lies

Indian food tonight
A little chana masala
Impressed by Khadija's help
Blue Mosque for Allah

Yo soy un Americano
But I'm open to the Other
54 years old
Still miss my mother

            David Markson: hover?

The religious conservatives are lost lost lost!
You can't go back
Gotta go forward against the wind

The future is space
Alien race?
Extrasolar water? Cosmic wind?

Avatar tonight
I have never been to India
But in Charlotte - India came to me.

Chana Masala
Subramania Bharati
Arthur Edens sets Shiva free

                313233

The sadness comes at night
Also when I'm reading
Nothing at all can last
Snowfall shunyata

My neighbors are quite friendly
Main Street USA
I walk the baseball diamond
Think of high school friends

European history
Asian bullet trains
Indian chana masala
Africa in sun

China might be rocking
Maybe UFOs
Maybe Reno snows
Taipei 101

         Thy will be done.

It's just my inner drama
Comes out as thousands of poems

Yes, a sensitive
Can you see me when I show 'em?..

I like volleyball
And delicious chana masala

Rumi was a master
Poetry of Allah

I'll probably be forgotten
But I remember Dr. Thomas

In the years that still remain
Help me keep my promise

                     Amen.