Utilizing the new wheel

1.

When the poem stops

In the depth of its tracks

But the track of Jupiter is full-

Bodied, and the clear

Northeastern sky exhales its contents,

The poem’s resuscitated.

Mouth of Earth moves

To Jupiter’s mouth, — lips
Like a drop of star !

2.

The deep exhibition sweeps

Above the city farther than the neck bends

Backward in its bones.

Tonight it's the measurement of light

Which sets the distance the eye can see.

If it all ends now I'd be

The first in the world to know.

                                  

                       

                                

-aftermath-

the winding
two-lane country road
ends in violence
at the trunk of a tree.
nothing’s remembered

and everything’s moved

to another space where

occupancy is transformed

redefining its bones.

––this is due to a fatal car crash

at the junction of Routes 177 and 6.

––tonight, they "Beat the Clock"

at Alhambras Bar in Westport.

doors open at six.
––the first hard drink is full-price,
the second is half of that, the third's on the house.
the bar is busy stamping the backs of its frantic hands.
the clock stops beating at nine.
––last-call bell rings out

at morning's earliest hour, and driving hard

on 177 at the junction of 6, the dashboard radio's

romancing fever-pitched:

"Be-Bop-A-Lula".

-maybe baby-

maybe she'd say:

—I’d understand clearly

if the thought of you

had crossed my mind

as the thought of me has crossed yours.

maybe she'd say:
––when was it we danced?

was it the Spindrift where you say

we learned the language of saltwater

and from the dance-floor the language of song?

this fabric you speak of,
that which unraveled at our feet,––

I don't know it as you do

and yet you tell me of how

we stormed the diners, the balconies

and the bench-seats

falling in the trenches for young

love’s sake,

laughing.

indestructible.

invincible!

irresistible.

maybe baby

had I the time reserved

would remember something

of your journey toward me ——

something of when you said the windows cranked-down

when the dashboard's radio tuned-in

and the chain-linked fences brushed

in silver passed the Portuguese

widows dotting the sidewalks in solemn black

forever in mourning.

was it then the rush of the swift
afternoon was at my face?

when did we feel the heat from the pistons

of your father’s flaming Roadmaster?

she might say.

-the poem-writer's last days-

when he's old — not so much

older than now

the age of his old grandfather

his old uncle

the older brother of his old father

when he's old enough

to fear another solid

penetrating the bowel

and water

softly splashed to his face

becomes a nightmare

when he's old and pisses
uncontrollably with the blank

expression of the animals

is spoon-fed unspeakable concoctions

by younger women applying a tepid

attendance

when he's old and barely

conscious of the brittle

bone ready to snap––

squinting at the written instructions 

lost at the face of the mechanism 

lost in the dust of the kids

running by in their lightning attitudes

when he's old — not so much older than now.

                            

-with the girl from Mount Saint Mary Academy-

Let's go to the mayfly.

It sits on the screen-door to the kitchen

If the door to the entry is left open.

Goo-goo eyed, the mayfly stares blankly

Into the face of the one day it has.

Mayflies covered

The outside walls and windows

Of the Carnival Drive-In on route 6

Sticking to the rims of its saturated

Paper-boat trays in deep-fried seafood.

There, at the farthest edge

Of the redwood picnic table

Where the great Watuppa Ponds

Of the Narrows split,—

Maureen Herron’s blue eyes veer

Outward toward the water

Across the southern pond,— the distance

Leaving a comet's tail of fatal ice.

Pinch the mayfly gently by its wings.

Look within to the frail and failing

Heart of the mayfly.

This is the barely beating

Transparent heart of man.

She said I should go without her.

She said she had found another.

The mayfly disappears long before winter.

                               Westport, Massachusetts