Don't say anything
about God you can't
say over a pit of
burning babies."
—Elie Wiesel
Back from retreat
another temp
job -
In a concrete bunker office
like a ghost
ringing
phone lines I'm not
supposed to
answer
- no windows -
later to the
Clinic w/ mutant
babies
crick in my neck
hunchback
*
The dwarf at the desk
baby cries rising in
the pain of the world -
breathe in dark smoke of
suffering
breath out white moonlight
compassion -
wrathful crazy wisdom mantra
in heart
leukemia poster on the wall
hard not to weep for my dead sister
this tiny building of
screams in the
vast trichilichosm of
agony
Buddhas! Buddhas! Buddhas!
Please!
*
Fog out the window
twitching
the trees
black ink
10 minutes before
work 3rd day
Joyce the aspiring
young Chinese in
at 11-3 hours
by myself w/
the demon phones
*
The long walk
to work
makes sagging
flesh firm
arriving early
sitting across
from the
Dept. of
Orthopedic
Surgery
Myth of Sisyphus to
keep this rotting
meat
in shape -
Death's angel
is a blanket
of fog over
glass & lights
of the hospital
*
4 pigeons on
the roof of McDonald's
Burger -
homeless young
men sprawl
on the sidewalk
Monday dawn
- I dodge
yuppies blazing
their autos
through cross
walks -
The janitors in
the lobby
discuss John
Kennedy Jr.
is he dead?
last night
Dan Rather
newscaster
wept as he
spoke
of it
with his
Camelot 3000
comic book
hope
*
Black gardener
trims the hedges
across the
street with
a chain saw -
Above his head
the trees again
look spooky,
sickly
in the gray
dawn
Doom is a
dream
safe
if
none to dream
it -
just clear
empty space
writing in
a notebook
*
young J.
11 y.o. male
hemihypertrophy?
(overgrowth
of half a
body part
including face)
plays a video
game with
a small screen
in his palm
- strange
electronic music
& explosions
- happier
than any
movie star
*
Bus electric
trolley pole
white metal
passing
window against
white fog
- my heart of
tears, hard job,
brain chemicals in
head anxious
with stress
the
white bus
a sinister omen,
a crime,
a white sore
*
Dr. K's in the
office early
bleached blonde
wrath
she exacts her
need from
the temp slave (me)
twisting for
juice
- I'm a coward
in her presence
a skill she
has refined, aura
of scalpels
black
burning halo
*
A mother reading
GONE WITH
THE WIND
in the clinic
I never realized
what that
title meant
"Are you the Dr.?"
I look like
a crazy hippie
doctor out of
TV show E.R.
with suit
long hair earring
clipboard
thinking:
"You need a Dr. of
the Soul."
what horror movie
is that from
did Edward Van
Sloan say it?
*
To have
Children:
Kerouac poet told
Corso poet "You've
brought something
into the world
to die"
L. had an
abortion that
was mine
Halloween 1979
my 20 year old ghost
- such regret
I have no children
& now too
fearful
what neo-
Nazi of the
future?
- alcoholic
genes for sure
- you just
never know
- a Down's
syndrome kid
in neat white
Calvin Klein
sweatshirt
- that's a holy card
of Jesus'
thorny heart -
memory of my
Catholic youth -
the broken heart
of saints
is unavoidable
*
The autistic
boy
exploding psychic nova blow
to the chest
"No screaming"
admonishes
Mom - she
reads out loud
to keep him calm
- a grating
story about
a beaver -
I may scream
for him -
Mom says:
"Talk words.
Look at me."
*
How angry the
father holding
baby E.
the mother pushing
an empty stroller
- how did this
happen to me?
(his sullen
face says)
This is all
fucked up!
Failure to Thrive
developmental delay
delayed myelination
on MRI. Revisit.
*
the chemo
vomit child
I don't even
want to
write
The nurse says to him:
"Hey buddy.
Having a hard time?"
he puked in the
waste basket
tiny thing
o my dead
sister
O how will
I die
all my friends
and family in
the grave
"Look at the
fog. Looks
like a dream
or something"
says another Dad
maybe
stoned -
Mom says
"O be quiet"
*
Do they scream
in Hell
like a child's
scream?
Probably
*
Needles biopsies
bone marrow
transplants
the orchestra
of pain
*
"Genetics.
Marc speaking."
- Dr. C
was a victim
of the Unabomber
blew off part
of his hand
I guess the
Unabomber thought
Doc was
making the Boys
from Brazil
4th Reich
in fact these
doctors only
help the mutant
kids -
Big love that
somehow
went wrong
in their
personal lives
*
On the walk
to work on
Haight St.
Dracula is
up in a leather
coat talking
to himself
- the rules of
sunlight no longer
apply -
bad sign
- on the
sidewalk Indian
drunks sleep
in the drizzle
deep dead slumbers
even breath
unobservable
- at the glass door
to the lobby
a young one-legged
man on
crutches
combs through
the sand of
the big outside
ashtray - he
has found
many good butts
& is singing
- I am due
at the Mutant
Clinic in 35 min.
*
Posters in
the Clinic:
-STARTING FREE
GOOD AIR FOR ME
-START LOVING YOU
BABY BEFORE
IT'S BORN
I think of some
posters
for when I'm
gone
and these faces
have faded
from my prayers
in spite of my best
intentions
-REMEMBER ALL
HEARTS
-THIS MOVIE WILL
END
-IN YOUR BREATH
IN YOUR MIND
IN EVERYTHING
YOU SEE:
BUDDHA IS HERE
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