Winter 2006-7

Three Poems by Urayoan Noel


He is trying to keep it together --- He walks up to the drugstore window and pleads his case --- They will have none of it: “…not without a prescription; it’s store policy” --- By the time he plops back down on the park bench he is going in and out of consciousness: first an aura, a foreboding, a strange smell, a series of flashing lights, shifting geometric patterns, then a jolt to the back of the head, a lightning bolt ---
The passersby [ try not to stare ] just grab their coiffured dogs, pick [ at the ] falafel sandwiches, make sure their designer watches are still there, [ wound ], and walk away ---

Soon the tingling will subside and all he’ll hear is these piped-in E-Z listening drones: the cell phones generating static? the sounds of turbines? cycles of birth and death? seasons collapsing?… or just another mindless afternoon in the industrial park?




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