Blue Rock, Page 2

You strike a figure of love, a seductive dancer

  in every personals ad of myself.

  You strike the white plaster of our manse on Woodbine,

  back in Warren, in my Christmas shopping.

  You strike a collection of barbed wire on the hallway

  in your wedding announcement.

  You strike a pitch-chilling mood, and utter "damn!"

  in my parking lot shortly before sunrise.

  ~*~

  XXVIII

  When the air beclouds what we keep unspoken,

  you continue to seek my approval

  where there will be no blessing.

  When the air brings me out of anesthesia,

  you promise me a marriage-supper of pure delight.

  When the air secludes a sunny spot

  beside a crystalline mountain stream,

  you have done what you've done,

  and I can do nothing to change that.

  When the air covers strawberries in chocolate,

  you burn bridges behind you.

  When the air places her fingers on my lips,

  you travel to London.

  When the air leads me up an old church steeple,

  you find yourself needing money.

  ~*~

  XXIX

  A Hero has been submerged in that nether

  world. A Sorceress demands a cigarette — at

  least a light. A Hero appears quite out of

  character or place. A Sorceress keeps coming

  back at her victim, sometimes just for a new

  address or telephone number, as if there's

  some power in just knowing where you live.

  A Hero has been buried alive or even denied.

  What else can he do but go away? A Sorceress

  is never faithful to anyone. Just "Beep," checking

  up to see only if you are around or might be

  with someone else. A Hero will obtain good mileage,

  contrary any wrenching I feel in my heart.

  ~*~

  XXX

  It was a mistake to flirt so openly

  that started much earlier than she admits.

  It was a mistake to want some other possession

  you intended to escape or else marry.

  It was a mistake to desire such an independent woman

  that kept me from predicting our tangled plot-line.

  It was a mistake to declare myself happily married

  that prevents me from acknowledging any root of divorce.

  It was a mistake to view youth as potential,

  not delusion, that rolls with thunder.

  It was a mistake to scream across the parking lot

  to her window that I always adored you.

  ~*~

  XXXI

  When it rains broken

  promises, you alter

  your expectations. When

  it rains because a brunette

  is sultry, your overtures go largely

  unheeded. When it rains each

  one's shortcoming, the idol

  of questing takes shape. When it

  rains Medusa's serpents, they wear

  their pelts long. When it rains months

  after a fraternity party, your fancies

  run contrary to fashion. When it

  rains furtive kisses in that treetop,

  you run far ahead, inciting gossip.

  ~*~

  XXXII

  With a ring of clear night, I entered

  a corral of lions. Within a ring of electric blue

  tunnel, I stood straight out from a framed

  engraving of your face. In a ring of landlocked

  muddy woodlands, I combated your mirage where

  no troops would desert me. With a ring of your

  resolute nipple, my heart tingled. With

  your ringing broken promise set amid ripples

  from an enormously forbidding inner tube, I admitted

  basic problems allocating scarce goods and services.

  With a ring of baby oil smeared in sunlight, Chinese

  dragons wriggled from our flesh into summer water.

  At last we were ringed by spice factory

  peppers and cinnamon

  modulating Chesapeake Bay

  shrubs and flowers.

  ~*~

  XXXIII

  You brought a half slip to my paper

  wasp nest. You brought a divorce

  complicated by my former assistant

  to my garden path back to the body. You

  brought such giddy anxiety to my waiting

  at the train station. You brought a cycle

  of criticism to my Academy of St. Martin

  in the wallpaper. You brought a chill

  to my unplugged Saturday nights,

  another of the boys you were going through

  while my horseman farmer raced

  across ruined mosaic all the while

  you demanded I be happy.

  ~*~

  XXXIV

  As I happen in your life, you begin to comprehend

  I'm a maturing apparition. You're contrary

  bearings. I'm steadfast mourning. You reconsider

  talent. I'm so many lost causes. You're Baltimore's

  perfumed night in ancient contexts. I'm hostilities

  originating in beauty. You're almost a taxi ride

  home from the airport. I'm a sentry statue flanked

  by thistles on my town common. When we engage,

  you're more expressive than any boom box.

  ~*~

  XXXV

  Please don't panic after you've had me.

  Only male frogs will sing.

  Please don't sing folksongs in a lovely deep voice.

  We are blown grain by grain toward ignition.

  Please don't grin huge as a pumpkin.

  I once believed our compassion was absolute and original.

  Please don't switch roles over the years.

  We are trekking in opposite directions.

  Please don't scream into my answering machine.

  My lovers have taken me soaring around the sun.

  ~*~

  XXXVI

  facing their wedding ceremony

  I finger my last shredded

  romance facing details

  that would split us I finger

  two portraits our cousin put out

  at yard sale facing open fire

  I finger half of my life since

  adolescence facing a pool of Mozart

  and Monet I finger a sweetheart

  who possesses endless expertise I

  lack in domesticity and social

  grace facing the burden my devotion

  placed upon you I finger crumbs

  from her table facing an embroidery

  of such violent fantasies I finger

  a worn chart of varied landscapes

  ~*~

  XXXVII

  your face invariably

  has distressed me your face

  has always seemed too long

  your face is from Ohio as much

  as anywhere your face could be sailing

  from Galilee your face enfolds

  a great mystery your face requires

  as much care as a small child

  ~*~

  XXXVIII

  come to times between lovers

  where you could put up garden produce

  tend your orchard come to places

  students prowl the night coming where my

  ex-lovers who have been painters, musicians

  and actresses practice in their studio where

  you never find gratitude even after

  pain comes to the hotshot nexus

  so close to my origin where you aren't one

  I remember coming to a touchstone

  in the silt of infancy where a mirror image

  d
oes not complete the whole hereafter

  encircling that mystique of skirts and frills where

  I sought an archetype that would be you

  ~*~

  XXXIX

  I labored under false expectations

  beside the water all my effort mapping

  became an obstinacy rousing up

  into a simmer by water short-

  circuit sparks into electrical fire

  beside the water she languished waiting

  for my field notes beside the water a redhead

  still has effortless pageantry

  as precise as a verbal holograph of place

  beside the water I hoped you would save me

  ~*~

  XL

  by water I sought a deal and

  gold stars by water a debutante

  strips my command by water I

  am tormented by a line voicing

  physical enticements by water

  I have always had dynamics backward

  by water armies and nations prepare

  to restage the previous war by water

  I want to tell Grandma, move aside

  ~*~

  XLI

  As I was catching my breath, the maintenance crew

  came to fix my toilet. As I was catching my breath,

  she suddenly started rubbing my shoulders,

  in a feigned or ineffective sympathy. As I was

  catching my breath, the earth itself granted words

  of caring. As I was catching my breath, a blond child,

  walking back to the pool from the fence, smirked

  to his buddies. As I was catching my breath, the ground

  turned so dry heavy rainfall ran right off. As

  I was catching my breath, I had no need to be clever.

  ~*~

  XLII

  Crawling into conservative suits

  for work, we bid on homemade

  ice cream and finally understood

  why my grandfather's recipe was

  so highly esteemed. Crawling into

  the living room, I could not see my

  own merits when competing with

  rivals draped in tailored clothing,

  swimming pool club memberships,

  and new wheels. Crawling into the mall,

  I glimpsed behind your golden façade

  and recognized motions to consolidate

  power. Crawling into a seething rage

  just below the surface, you unintentionally

  confirmed with your own statements.

  Crawling into a sunny morning where

  construction workers were already

  present, I found whatever intimacy

  I had shared with you was turned

  against me. Crawling into a tattoo

  studio, I forgot your name.

  ~*~

  XLIII

  Let's say our own lusts cut free from leaps and

  dances so we'll again face that naive sexuality,

  soft-edge of untested ambition, raw ignorance

  skirting danger that blames the wolf in Red

  Riding Hood. Let's say we allow corruption

  and lies within our own high places so we'll

  return a few days before flying off to England.

  Let's say you're forgetting my psyche, a narcissism

  of the women I've caressed so we'll find relief

  in any decision or action. Let's say events with

  my spouse weren't quite a smiling sprite, eventual

  prom queen, impeccable bride, so we will avoid

  addressing young talent. Let's say you've renounced

  pyramid climbing in a ripening more emotional

  than sexual so we'll have a patched sweater to wear.

  Let's say I couldn't leave my wife preoccupied

  with jousting strategies so we'll be itching like crazy.

  ~*~

  XLIV

  I inhale the destructive price of fine art

  I exhale your body seized by lunar rhythms

  I inhale treacherous apparitions overrunning your sleep

  I exhale a seashore cottage

  I inhale a tapestry flight

  I exhale a woman who has become a drill sergeant

  I inhale the inside of her cello

  I exhale the conjuncture of how many geometries

  I inhale a Paintbrush Opera

  I exhale diametrically opposing values

  I inhale a feline infidelity

  I exhale chains running over sprockets

  ~*~

  XLV

  Next exit, there is nothing of the girlish dimension

  when I speed on at sixty. Next, her glance hints

  she knows intimacy as I speedily don a rubberized green

  apron. Exit, where Peter has his boat torn apart

  for extensive repairs, I gain speed on reagents

  with certified purity. Next, as though parking

  upon hard and vast distances of fracturing snow,

  I speed behind safety goggles. Exit, the bad boys are

  at such an advantage I speed along glass tubing.

  Next, I will never have to speak as I exit into

  the cement wall of a cemetery T-intersection

  at one hundred and twenty-five miles an hour.

  ~*~

  XLVI

  For a cotillion starched mirage to be commended

  to my repair and proximity I had to relate

  a joke skillfully. To become adept in luck,

  to be blessed, to be as potent

  as a safety-goggle Lucifer captivated

  with natural, flawless features counter

  to my liftoff into chaotic suffering, yes

  I walked in the fleshy basket of berries

  before a mortar-and-pestle seraph. Then I was

  scouting, chem lab, thickets, and coursing

  imprinted with doubts countering memory that

  still somehow transcribes another blonde ponytail

  Kentuckian apparition. An alcohol-lamp demon

  could have wooed her with success that fathoms

  almost nothing. A shiver of remedial subsistence

  at poolside bestirs titillation few of us could speak.

  Nobody touched the pianist, so far as I know.

  ~*~

  XLVII

  I barely recognized one ghoul

  after that ride once a gum-chewing

  Dr. Grocer had preserved her sunset

  pony-tail in a tea-rose vase. As a matter

  of fact I'd assumed her svelte parody

  would swagger along the unlocking

  chamber of my budding adolescence.

  Instead, she executed a prelude to

  concussive curves others would pitch me.

  With no coaching to steer clear of repeated

  deceit, I marched into an uninhabited

  reflection as shallow as pornography.

  Nobody on this franchise would

  forewarn me how the right bat has thorns.

  What spoils my stony inexperience

  miscarried in our mutual bewilderment

  still entailed what was forbidden.

  Despite my intentions, I escaped

  the gargoyle entrapment of open windows

  I would have thought nothing of entering,

  I, who am still astounded by the crackle

  of clear hosiery in my clasp. Now I pay

  another price, belatedly recognizing

  there were so many opportunities before

  that brash squirrel and I sat in my father's

  dark garage. I still do not understand

  the male who begins breaking off,

  "I think you don't like me enough."

  His new demon who'd been so

  complete becomes the painstaking bitch

  after just one chord in a concert of

  financial constraints. Again there are

  s
o many ways to close those eyes.

  ~*~

  XLVIII

  The naked couple showers with lemon soap.

  In a restful haze they talk

  of an absence from sex or of their giving

  a wedding night peignoir.

  The naked

  couple is ripe and from Norway

  when a calfskin sun floats

  along the lake on their backs.

  ~*~

  XLIX

  A sorceress promises to bear fruit

  becoming a full moon violin recital.

  Her mouthful of braces gleams demurely

  becoming my motorcycle fantasies.

  Forced to quit high school, she married

  the reptilian part half-hooded with anger.

  She shows no sign of continuing interest

  while one falsehood leads into another.

  She rarely ever approaches me when

  memories in the photos turn brown.

  A sorceress suggested obliquely over

  dinner I take a co-worker as my mistress.

  ~*~

  L

  preparing raw oysters

  on the half shell sundown

  is just starting in your

  closet as you stack insecurities

  between movies and cocktails

  for us next to glossy fashion

  magazines in your closet we

  listen to water in your closet

  placid eyes sparkle in your

  closet you array garter belts

  of every color in your closet we

  devour an intimate repast

  ~*~

  LI

  You gave me petals in an apple

  orchard where idolatries and

  infidelities appear the same. I gave you

  beveled leaded glass from a Time

  magazine cover story. You gave me

  an hour of zazen under a beech tree

  in Indiana where I sent you that strident

  letter. I gave you drunken exchange

  students from the Italian grocery a few

  blocks south. You gave me blue cotton

  jogging pants where I had to wear a suit

  and tie. I gave you all classifications

  of existence within lingering bitterness.

  ~*~

  LII

  You decided to look out from the window

  to admire a branch in burnished clouds. I choose

  to give you permission to break off

  our engagement. You concluded

  it was all a lie. I'm rejected once more

  despite my labors. You decided to bare

  your mons veneris with a razor. I grip nothing

  in small measures. You concluded there's

  no breakout from materialism. I am,

  you insist, every defect you've selected.

  ~*~

  LIII

  When I heard how closely she parodies

  a place in my heart she hoped to snare

  false messiahs. When I heard bag ladies

  and street people, she was playing

  at the cinema. When I heard my spiritual life

  was undergoing incredible expansion, she

  became a month, a year, a fashion, or a hot song

  her own age. When I heard others in the room

  confirm — without my asking — how much

  she was available to me, she was stuck in place.

  When I heard the final straw fall, she'd become

  a memory of forbidden sweet intercourse. When I

  heard I've failed to value my own self sufficiently,

  she insisted I've no right to be happy.

  ~*~

  LIV

  We planted patio grills and point-and-shoot cameras

  to crop up as BLTs all summer. We harvested

  what would rend us. You tried so hard

  to prepare me for a permanent-press, split-level

  cul-de-sac. We planted a set of invisible slates