Tag Archive: Iroquoian



Angry Lamb

Flight from Munich to Cincinnati was dreadful.
Want this Arabian airlines, what was their name again?
Will find out. Now let’s get outta here quick.
E…, something starting with E, uhm?
Climb down the stairways in my new lambskin boots.
It’s May but ice rain greets the passengers. Dig nature’s irony.
Kentucky of all places! I know I’m mad.
Booked hotel room (2 stars) in Louisville.
I’m following my intuition. 2 stars: might serve fresh seafood here.
Cab driver’s a Cherokee. Does he know the alphabet?
Tell him: language beautiful like all the Iroquoian tongues.
Fascinated by the 5 nations ideology, too. We drive
2 hours. Ice drizzle. Hotel room roach-free. Need to sleep.
Too late for breakfast. At noon I have a problem.
My lost lover’s anger has morphed into a
Clump of weakness. In the lounge I order homegrown Bourbon.
Watch a Fox channel 30-somewhat. After the weather report
I have to get outside for smokes. Back I lean over to ask the
Bar tender, a Diné from Alaska appropriately named Paul.
“Paul, if you were free…” He chuckles. “No, no, seriously:
Where dya go?” – “Guess … Chicago.”
“You can smoke in your room, yaknow?”
Tell him to book me a flight. Not gonna see her.
Roam the Blues town instead. Am maybe not acting
Wisely but feel : the anger is gone.
Might turn into a ram if need arose.
“Hey Paul!” I shout, “or maybe: a train?”
Part II (across a bridge)

Am ready to leave. I am not.
Should at least call her once
For a maybe rendezvous,
Belated dalliance. Hugs to make up for the loss?
Flight canceled. Tornado warning.
Instable season. Should have known better.
Marissa, Czech ancestry, serves me breakfast.
I know what she thinks as she puts down the bottle.
I feel guilty. Guilt costs 5 bucks. Her tip, my price.
After she left and right before I drown a glass
I reflect: She still thinks I’m shit. Should stop wasting money that way.
Promise to myself, while gulping down the golden brown
Liquid, to only hand out bucks for open-faced smiles.
Decide also to go from Chicago to Minneapolis. My new
Poetic mission. Need to cross the bridge Berryman didn’t.
Part III (keeping what flows)

Call her in the end: “Not true!” – “Yes, meet me at the … hotel, room number 32”
When she is here I want my mind to photograph her brown eyes
To keep. We get naked, order oysters. She gets drunk, too.
“Whatcha tell mom and the kids and … Richard?” – I’m,
I confess, not really interested. We exhaust each other. Desperately.
What a gift to watch her walk naked through the room!
‘Keep this forever; it won’t come back.’ I think. “Look,” she says:
“ bought that for you.” It’s a hardcover, 1957 first edition of Bradbury’s Dandelion Wine, her fav.
Of course I cry. “You know,” I tell her, while we watch a porn on pay tv,
“I was really dreaming us into that house you’d once been living in.”
You smile but you don’t turn your head. “Just leave,” I say, “I’ll take a shower.”
Next morning I fly to Chicago hungover by pain, not booze.
Part IV (in coherence)

I board the plane and fall asleep. Gonna be a long night
Because I haven’t booked a hotel room. I dream august.
Her house with me, kids, cats. The fish pond outside.
We need no license here. Something greater than you, me, sex
And the sun hidden behind a blue fat cloud is out there,
Is in here, inside my dreaming. SA—TO—RI!
“Sir?” – we land. “Miss?” –“Yes?”
“Sweetie,” she grins, “you need to be taken care of.”
Gosh, I’m not Peter O’Toole; I just need MOM, any.

She’s preparing some kind of meaningless breakfast
While I peruse her CD collection. She is sweet and nice.
Seems, we had sex and she no complaints. “The Sears Towers?”
I know that of course but I play the game. She saved me one hundred bucks.
She smells good but her nose annoys me. I think her nose is a geo-
Metrical figure not yet described by Plato. An N-eder of sorts.
I have not the slightest reason to complain, cleverly avoiding mirrors. “Serge!” – “Yes? Hannah?”
“I’ll leave you the keys. Will be back this weekend.”
I’m so grateful.” Do you by chance have a city map?”

“Ya, sweetie, over there, gotta go!” And after she left
Her Persian cat snuggles up to me. I relax, sipping Henessy,
Will leave a 20 $ note on leaving. I cannot make love to geometrically imbalancedly
Nosed women too often.
Part V ( Almeida)

Once I thought I was deep; Now, gazing at Chicago’s silhouette
I find out about me: shallow, greedy, multiphobic. Old, losing my sex,
My identity, a liar, opportunist, mene tekel upharsim.
Cozy here, love the carpet: when drunk you can
Fall down on it and sleep. Glad I got no gun.
Cats seem wiser. Almeida, Hannah’s, stalks around the app,
Purring preorgasmic, tail curled like a walking-stick.
I can read her mind: the neighbor, who feeds her,
Will be here soon. I leave. Goodbye Hannah,
Wished I recalled what it felt like to commune with your body.
Down and outside it’s not windy at all. I light a cig, read the Tribune’s headline
Walk a while alone, cautiously. I don’t want to fall down again.

%d bloggers like this: