America and I

She said striking "We live in a me-society"
and that I should consider how it's "all about them."

and how foreign I am in respecting
the rights and needs of others above myself.

She said "You need to grow some balls" to my face
which was weird because, y'know, she's my mother.

But she's afraid I'll always give in, smiling and nodding
always, always getting walked all over and all that jazz...

So I compared myself to Jesus, saying
that I love everyone, but I have a haircut and jeans.

And I don't mind being the help, but I am all too often
the only guy to carry an old lady's groceries. Goddamn.

I am the hands all the fucking time, and that
return policy on my good karma is well past due.

But I'm more than an invisible hand (an invisible man),
I am also patient for a pie and a title: prodigy.*

So our discussion ended with tears and iloveyous,
yada yada yada, but at least now I'm proud of my accent.

*DiFara's Pizza on Avenue J is by far the best pizza I have ever consumed.
The prodigy refers to Michaelangelo saying that "genius is eternal patience."

Gazing

Corridored distances, one
two
three rooms the distance.

You wanted to see an artist
and I wanted to see you
smile and think and otherwise.

So we AlbrightKnoxed* and while I
read about popes and politicians
screaming and weeping in coarse colors,

You gazed for hours. Hours standing,
concentrating, peering. Eyes and mouths
agape rudely, and you didn't care.

So while I read about violet
violence in paintsoaked bedrooms
and tossledhair homosexuality,

You saw about it, and wondered
quietly. You didn't pay attention
to how far away I was at all.

But you blinked and owlturned, and I
soon found your smile at my shoulder
thinking quietly, looking quietly.

*Albright Knox is an art gallery in Buffalo, NY. This particular exhibition was for the dark oils of Francis Bacon.

Pissed at the band...A Monologue

"Listen, nobahdy heah's any respo'sible. Y'all gots this complex about the assu'ptions and expectations of othahs. Or, y'all'ah jus' hidin' behind the masks of othahs to say what'chu' want, so that'cha don' soun' selfish. In any case, why don'chyall jus' fuhgeddabadit an' lemme have a voice, eh? This is my band too, y'know."

"We're not talking right now. But I don't know why."

I'm no idiot, but I am (yes) ignorant.
And the confusions and questions
driving my mind from mind
from day to day to day today (I am)
curious of finding responses and A's.
that might come to mean
somethinganythingsomeoneanyone.

And those C's and Q's are only stop-- by my
obscure and countableononehand
securities and alrights.

Children The My's of Idealism

My query an innocence,
young and with brightlight eyes

my asked "Where are my friends?"
and the talldark booed, booming

"What friends? You've had none."
"So the none I had are gone?"

Quick to reply, my confused, amusing.