Max Taylor A Moment
for Hubert Ingraham & E.M.J.

i.
when the gaze turns upon me
when I’m addressed

I’ve a response to make
I’ve a date with destination

ii.
prolific coconut tree

bunches yellow, gold, green
at it again

bucket falling into the water in the well
with a splash

iii.
in red dress,
electrical connection
connected to heaven

she is radiant, bulb-like, bright
will I see her again

I’ve seen her twice
see her, I ignite

iv.
I have offered myself up to mother
offered myself over to motherhood

handcuffed to it
struggle in it, struggle with it

not against it, not yet

v.
the erotic is missing from Max’s oeuvre
so much apart of what I pen down, pin down

like woman after woman
upon the mattress of my note book

vi.
stomach she has, what is that about

in her red dress, will have to remove it
massage therapist visiting
will have to undress almost completely

wish it were I with such skills in my fingers
I’d chase away fatigue, I’d ease what aches

stomach she has though, what is that about

what has she in her history
body full of history

her own, with centuries more added
layers of rock a geologist has to read

vii.
her dancing eyes to trip me up
to trigger me off, to look into

in ones, in twos, in shoes, in socks

to take off quickly enough
though we haven’t

enjoyable being friends
with all our clothes on

with all out clothes off
would we laugh, would we talk
get in the tub, get out, dry off

viii.
wearing a beard
in this outfit for the evening
for this important event

Max exhibition at NAGB
Prime Minister attending

Max’s shoes hurt his feet

strollers from which
he has not deviated in years

in formal, in form, in my beard
my age recorded in it

this I wear instead of black tie
instead of suit and tie

unable to acquire beard like this
in Fine Threads

threadbare or almost
thread of my verse though
does not break easily


© Obediah Michael Smith, 2009
Written between 7:45 p.m.
and 10: 44 p.m. Friday,
September 18, 2009