Thursday, October 07, 2010

Lil Piece a Lil Piece
for Sparkles & Stan & Dennie
& D.B.A. & Jace
& Dawn & Amos

tinted windows
how could I tell who was waving

then I knew who it was
all of a sudden

urge to cross the road against traffic
as impossible as it seemed
wanted more than to wave
that you waved and that I waved back

thought to cross the road,
thought to force heavy traffic
to pause

wanted to plant a kiss upon your lips
as thirsty as this for you
thirsting for you for days

since it seems exclusivity is,
these days, a difficulty
an impossibility almost
and we must share
who we thought our own

to love another man's woman,
another man's wife,
what we all must contend with,

must love however,
wherever it is found
wherever- however it springs up

love for you springing up
and thirst only you can quench

thirst I could quench, ages ago,
with a fruit punch soda or two
or six in a day, in the store
on a day in summer

it would have been near suicidal
with traffic as it was,
to cross the street to seek a kiss

would you have wanted one,
would you have wanted too, I wonder

would you have permitted it
permitted kiss, our lips-
permitted us to be intimate

for an instant, not separate
as close as the end of June
and the beginning of July

uuh! they look so pretty
why can't I look pretty like that
with somebody- will I ever

Stan and Dennie
window of a jeep lowered
to receive me, to receive
payment on a painting

lovely, clean couple
such pretty colors
blouse and shirt

hers aqua-green
his shirt checkered
prettiest checkers
I have ever seen

without camera or movie camera
unable to show you exactly

reflect upon how lovely they look
how comfortable, how extra tidy

reflect upon the couple they are
how neatly fitted, how neat fitting
and I succumb to tears
to briefly weeping over my own life

a poet in the rain with a pen
and where has my art gotten me
where have I gotten in life
where have my steps lead

my wife/no wife is just 18
who I have, I haven't

naught but poetry
which this relationship produces

like sweat, like tears
often times, tears actually
I tear actually

in contrast, how whole
Stan and Dennie look
how whole they are

jeep to go home in
through the rain

checkers on the church floor
want to play anyone
anyone want to play

your move, my move
until we get to heaven
or to its gate

checkmate and you or I
allowed to enter

I must genuflect
to this other relationship

I must accept
being treated like crap
treated like shit
being shat upon
in exchange for gifts

I must be stupid

admit I'm in love
my heart constricts
when love clutches it
admit I cry when by love shaken

helpless, hopeless
determined though
to recover from this
from its grip, from your grip

little muffin I hafta share wit' him
fuck dat

if you want him ta have it
let him, I'll eat elsewhere
seek sweets elsewhere

what I gur do with
lil piece a sumtin
lil piece a lil piece

what gur leave my belly growlin'

belly growlin'
an' I growlin’

because all of your crimes
are committed on paper

because all or most of them
occur in the imagination
why you manage
to remain free of prison

why you manage to remain
out of the hands of the law

crimes committed on paper
who polices these

how do you offend on paper
who does not read
or seldom does

you have to mean it when you do it
Amos did, I do, Dawn does

like art like air
drink it like water
art in your blood

© Obediah Michael Smith, 2010
Written between 3 p.m., Wednesday,
October 6 and 5:15 p.m. Thursday,
October 7, 2010


Anonymous d.a. said...

One of the more depressing poems. Very much like anti-climax in a movie or in a reality. I dont want to be the antagonist.

Friday, October 08, 2010 6:41:00 PM  

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