gracias senor por la vida
gracias senor por favor

these wild days & just desserts
spilled coffee chalk flowers & green tables
these afflicted hours false as refined sugar
equal to zoos of ruins
you wouldn't want to know how i feel today
you wouldn’t want to believe the empty contents
of this waterlogged box
all the lists in the world contained within its window
the way the flag faces downward   mourning? shame?
iridescent street signs of black silhouettes
crossing full mouths
damp rainy auto-soaked linens dogs w/whiskered grins
flipflopping cellphones  injectory cloud cover
full mouths chewing & talking behind glass a glass mime
the soothsayers doom seekers & clowns are right
were probably right for the past 60 yrs
this is ww3 has been world war 3
his ball     uh    her ball
8 ball in the corner   pockets empty
these wild days & auditory silences
glass mouths shattering as they speak
heads bowed      in mourning / or looking for loose coins?
swashbuckles awash in the cloister
the question of cain being able
sugar coated wrong/rights
it's a 2 way street / a compromise /
we can't have one proudly serving actress speak for us all
glass tongue stoned wagging & splintered

this is my french toast
my bowl of fruit / fine sweet cinnamon
reserve your own space in this place
make room if there is none
even comestibles are combustible
these wild days

the woman at the next table
i would never keep her waiting    

Poet/collagist Steve Dalachinksy (1947-2019) was born in Brooklyn. His book “The Final Nite” (Ugly Duckling Presse) won the 2007 PEN Oakland National Book Award and he has received both the Kafka and Acker Awards and is a 2014 recipient of a Chevalier D’ le Ordre des Artes et Lettres. His latest cds are “The Fallout of Dreams” with Dave Liebman and Richie Beirach (Roguart 2014) and "PRETTY in the MORNING with the French art-rock group, the Snobs (BISOU 2019).