Jacket 39 — Early 2010 | Jacket 39 Contents page | Jacket Homepage | Search Jacket |
This piece is about 16 printed pages long.
It is copyright © Vincent Katz and Jacket magazine 2010. See our [»»] Copyright notice.
The Internet address of this page is http://jacketmagazine.com/39/katz-3poems.shtml
Francis Bacon
1 Animal
An ache of blue in the clouds
2 Zone
The tension of bodies
3 Apprehension
A little man down the road
4 Crucifixion
A drink or two at the pub
5 Crisis
If violence be the rule, I be the exception
6 Archive
Photocopy is the only reality
7 Portrait
You look only as you look
8 Memorial
All that is left is sadness
9 Epic
All that is sadness and exultation
10 Late
I wish I lived here but I do live here
Goodbye
I.
Maggie Cheung climbs a fire escape in the rain,
but is it real
rain? and will you know when your style
is but a bandaged stab at
history’s layered larks,
and whether real or not, a system of
forks,
the family convening for dinner? The question
is suddenly no
longer interesting, your path
long ago diverged, you may no longer
return
to limitation’s disheveled bias, the true rushes
part of a
long history, decided and rendered
compositions and blended tones;
music
covers the missteps, best decision
at the time, given pressures
of
personality and taste.
If I look out my window, I see
a red
background, a woman standing,
and a leather harness on bust-height
dummy,
giving a very homey delicate sensation
of big-city life: nothing
threatening or too out-of-the-way,
though it could be if one were to take a
different
turn, instead of heading home, rather
start walking towards that
club, that feeling
or rather two or many simultaneous, pulling
there or
back, and you don’t know what you will do.
Newspaper grimmer and
grimmer,
could be a howl of infinite pain.
II.
ADOÇANTE DIETÉTICO EM PÓ GOLD
PREMIUM SWEET
ASPARTAME
Cada envelope equivale ao poder adoçante de duas colheres
de chá de açucar but winning is through the sounds and
agreed
to sit at spots rained through the same as music’s
sable
phrases spoken in the delight of salt
the twin long lines
of the slave cabins, cane or cotton fields and
long
list of things, hovering over meaning
can you accept that swivel
diced into a breath?
the pushing into something falters
at edge of
meaning, television
you have to think of
something
slinking down corridors, terrible wind before rain
sky a perfect
blue with upswept clouds, building edge
feeling of calm that everything is
done, wonder
about meter and forumula, thunder breaks, a nocturne
you
start climbing walls with other one sitting
manifestations
of glory to one across
the spread exaggeration to suggest
this
simultaneity age divided aspirations thrust
games drawings concealed
treatments
at hours meals and coffee as haircuts
site specific of
tired bows
never equal classic singing
is laid in movies over and
over
to effect that one hits another and driving
night-illuminated city
horn
taking diminish concern averts
small-dreaming extension
pretense
I can’t feel the morning, supple
tones auguries’
depleted service stuns
precede venom’s forged document sleep
weather vainly brink sullied stone
arrest system vent accorded lust
pretense
sibyls’ effort backed to signal
delay back feet
frenched
of lays’ wringing salad fortune erect
timed dabbles fringe
cornered sand array
collects wayside stammer helped
grief by petal glimmer
saw
forked lip gumming stringent bellow
precinct nothing gleamed
foreclosure spread
inward ink region pressed fever horse
regard
regions’ might present follow
in tonic blade the stream bed
garment
hung handle
to same harrowing
III.
It’s been cloudy for days, raining but not
constantly just
overcast with sudden blasts
of blue then shredded clouds appear then
grand
situations
the shapes are becoming
shrouded
and calls from friends the sky is becoming
the same color the
decorations one sees on
buildings the shades pulled down over windows
or
left up with lights showing but many dark
and they start to become
like limitations
I try to see the planes they set up like painting
and
that proves a certain relief, at night
lights and colors from life’s
rectangles
it is difficult to eat or drink anything
back to the window I
want to look out
a feeling of being stifled of nothing
happening
Seventh Avenue
a gentle fluttering:
large shadow figure
small shadow
man in fake
leather
jacket purple
sack over
shoulder
enters curved-brick
apartment building
Asian woman in
bright red pumps
comes out to
waiting car, women
walk dogs walk
them home in
bitter April sun
assuages the walkers
to work, many with
earphones attached
some in fresh haircuts
clothes neatly groomed
I’m a freak to some
standing in sun
with coffee
near
a ticketed Vespa
toward brick building
face,
I’m friendly, smiles graying woman
with dog
I am again the poet
their poet
perhaps
I’ll strive for this
beautiful
trees in bloom
pears mostly in cold
but
bright blue
heaven over us all
I saw a
woman’s bright
white Converse All-Stars
I wanted neither
to dirty
nor to kiss them
I wanted only to admire them
from afar
The façade and the plaza
are
important
See a teller today
It was the season of
benefits
We were looking for models
I wanted to know
what I wanted
to say
There is suddenly perfect light
I can see every
face
crumpled bike chained to parking post
still morning coffee
fresh day begin
those diagrams hieroglyphics straight
geometry incised
where people walk
dressed for Friday’s warm weather
sunlight slanted
as though long ago
every face on the avenue in
existence
Microdermabrasion
The Wright
Stuff
Soli-Tone
Arise
Sandwich bite in Subway
Renaître
en beauté
Libérez l’âme de votre peau
Legends of
the Road
I have found my place
Chadwin House
7th Ave Chelsea
Cleaners Plant On Premises
P.O. worker buys coffee and Danish
Aged punk
has mailed letter, now returns, long hair dyed blond
NY NY dueling
caps
one baby holds a train, another a book
You are here in one spot
in chilly May sun
You see people go and return
They are dressed to look
their best
You do not need to rush
¡Hola! Como estas?
Open and
Gay Therapy Groups Forming
ART IS NOT A CRIME
BelMar Plumbing &
Heating
NINE
LOST Last Seen In Dryer
Go to www.LostMySock.com
sot toy
STANDPIPE
SIAMESE
Twin TURBO CATERPILLARS eat asphalt belly
Back on
8th Ave.
The job of the poet is not easy:
be utterly observant,
tracking,
and to note down, in plain language,
with minimal emotional
distortion,
what s/he sees
e.g. bright red painted steel sidewalk
gate
neat edges but a few drips on sidewalk
brown UPS truck all on
sidewalk
turn on blocked street
Viceroy empty awaiting Campari
stand in
shade as in Tuscan summer
Nothing much here now but the shapes
sidewalk
endlessly revealed
In dusk’s anonymous sector
I am
anyone
I walk and can take on
any personality
any relationship
with
anyone or night
behind me sky erupts into
flurries of pink and
gold
DRINK VITAMIN-PACKED HEALTH-GIVING
PAPAYA KING
THE
KING
OF ALL
DRINKS
14th and 7th — eternal intersection
no one
stops here unless derelict
too much energy passes through
sweeps even to
the West
through here straight to Hudson and across
wide alley of light
and breeze
KASABIAN
WEST RYDER PAUPER LUNATIC ASYLUM
THE NEW
ALBUM
Featuring Fire, Underdog and Vlad The Impaler
available June
9th
old gent slowly pushes laundry cart
young woman carries
a dozen inflated balloons
cocooned in large plastic sheath
2 women in
head-scarves converse on 7th Ave.
near traffic pigeons patrol
sidewalk
U.S. towers ominously over gigantic
THE PORT OF NEW YORK
AUTHORITY
BANANA REPUBLIC
people are ready for the day
in suits or
shorts, baseball caps, jackets
on phones, walking dogs, carrying bags
pass
four columns, now ironic, framing
gated unused entrance
the ubiquitous
coffee containers
bikes chained to scaffolding and parking sign
in front
of newly-hosed sidewalk, just off the corner
bright orange pylons warn of
work danger
across the street, workers discuss project
one in white
helmet, one in blue bandana and t-shirt
an awning is going
up
Capitol
Time Keeper
Celebrate Dad
Father’s Day is
Sunday, June 21
Free Can-Soda with Any Slice Pizza
Smell of
roses on lighted corner
quiet walkers at night
turned from
leaving theater
to sky’s color
my sons alive greatest
pleasure
nothing more to do
time’s burden lifts, I
can
live each day alone
near Police Precinct green lights
and Manantial De Vida Inc.
safe in body and spirit here
20th St. at night
Their song: Arise, Arise, Arise
The sun has come, and the moon is gone
We greet the sun with our morning
song
We are thankful for another day
We are thankful for
another day
Arise, Arise, Arise
This year is not over
will never be over
This grade will last as long
as stars
last
General Haze
McManus shines through same
old-timer:
shopping cart cane baseball cap vest
“You get me all
twisted, lady, all twisted”
leaf blows to one’s feet sultry walk
past headphones
June, sun breaking through, more tight knock on
am
am
FREE DAILY
BNE BNE
BNE
chelseanow.com
metro
FREE
Employment Guide
New York
Press
The Village Voice
bird chirp near I try to stay hidden
but can’t — I’m
exposed on avenue, dogs sniff my toes
partial safety behind overflowing
shrub
it’s heating up, Friday, last walk to work
there she is again
in bright orange raincoat, tan baseball cap, red pants
lady brings a purple
mini-dress home from cleaners with white dog mini-wolf-like
it’s
funny I remember dogs and owners from walking Luis
Coffee Tea Bagel
Donut
Muffin Croissant Soda Water Snapple
Another boom-boom girl goes
by
boom diddy boom boom boom diddy boom boom boom — boom —
boom
Add 4 lines, $80.
Unlimited talk and text.
No
contract.
subway releases passengers onto sidewalk
now part of
corner’s flow before 9 am
This could be the end of spring, summer
hovering,
but still that fresh breeze at your back from river
that reminds
you you are human, everyone you see is human
that couple in white shorts, two
guys in PATH white pick up
THE PORT AUTHORITY
OF NY & NJ
guy
with headphones, yellow plastic bag
girl on phone with two bags, one on each
shoulder, pink and zebra
eight random New Yorkers in street waiting for light
to change
father runs across with little daughter
They are meeting
their day, are able to face what is ahead
this Friday, end of week, end of
Spring, Summer coming
It is the time for moving,
renovating
PROMPT RELIABLE TRUSTWORTHY SMOOTH
pressed too many
desires
shade heat endless energy
Safeguarding Valuables
Dunbar Armored
the kids play baseball
the heat rises off the
city
LACKAWANNA under haze
six huge portals a ferry’s
curve
Victorian tower red blinking
large green structure
within
a person holds certain structure
is gone several minutes
returns
an intense silent conversation
telephone sky dark coffee
tree
survive
ferry shuttles blue Hudson
fresh day of all
days
large Colgate clockface 9:05
turreted reception of
souls
Gray Line Authorized
Papaya Dog
Toronto Maple
Leafs
stimmt
U.S. navy
the icon nestles
pink
purple
lavender green
pale green
cream umbrella
he
apologized
I’m the man on the corner
Europe Café
all my
stuff in my hand
spray of hose
that’s my
style
bright sun on 14th St. faces
almost invisible
in front
of closed SLEEPY’S
but a Bjorned baby saw me
seeing-eye
steed-in-training re-harnessed
there is a wispy, great, light through this
city
easy t-shirts jackets hats
waiting for a taxi couple
braids
sunglasses
tentative forefinger in air
people are mumbling about
god
Dikembe Mutombo elegant in a suit
sign warning about a
sign:
DANGER Sign & Maintenance Corp.
TOY TOY oooooh...
article
about an article
she broke the case
a beer, a beach
LOVE
HAPPENS
caught on closed circuit t.v.
the quiet of people banking
today
is my friend’s birthday
that icon on the corner
where greatness was
sold, died, and came back to life
a great defining light
takes across the
avenue
hitting pockets on corners
Where’s the Sign ?!
two little
girls hesitant
to order pastries at
DIN EXPRESS COFFEE
wheeled
stand
he takes his boy to school every day
doing business on his cell
phone
crossing at red lights
I love re-starting
bright
green spray on lock and grate
car filled to ceiling with yellowed newspapers,
opened envelopes
“We didn’t make that
decision...”
salt and pepper hair, scarf, sneaker-boots
dogs
wait patiently outside deli
“Are you writing a
poem?”
“No, just taking some notes before I
forget”
well, it’s not a poem yet
though it is (all)
poetry
ICI DÉPÔT
DUBO
DUBON
DUBONNET
VIN DE LIQUEUR
AU QUINQUINA
A brutal fact: The Giants
lost.
If he’s OUT THERE
he’s ON HERE
Still winter
light through street alleys
paves a way to the West
BERNADETTE!
a song
heard somewhere in morning
words of others clarifying
bodies, frightened
laughing thrill of children
hooked scarves now, beverages
shoes, not
running shoes
tress on rooftop in
cold sun, one a bright red,
two
bright green in sun
radar reflections cafeteria
smokestacks parabolic
smoke
light strikes the body
on the avenue
I didn’t tell
you
another thing
LACKAWANNA over
flat water
waves minimal
etching
capacious structure
spire new outcrop
across
CAPITOL AWNING CO.
AUTUMN LEAF BUNDT
CAKE
temperature change on the corner
citizens emerge from
underground into light
I am documenter:
how building height allows sun
across avenue
spotted Vizla bounding at rope
Someone comes up, asks,
“Is this a German Shorthair?”
begins petting,
talking
colder, hazy
the day continues
gets on its
feet
man in overcoat, beret
man in shorts, cap, sweatshirt w/
dog
African nanny in head wrap strolls Latino baby
Tall blond Mom in
work dress
with one mestizo kid on each hand
Asian Dad with nice haircut
slowly
walks tiny backpack daughter
suave young office man walks
tieless
normal term for a chair
morning light through leaves
black
furry possibility
to put time into a picture
a face with hair
blowing
a back of a head with hair pulled tight
seen in an instant in
light
the heat in the atmosphere
has ended a certain type of
poetry
low light over buildings
brightness of church side
long shadows
“What are you doing?
Writing notes?
About what?”
“Just stuff.”
“Just stuff,
huh?”
must put pen to paper
more
over-allocated
distressed markets
on the other side
art
is being decided
by two people
at a small table
but let’s get
back to you
if I have left something out,
let it
be
the many mourners happy
to see each other in
the
poetry
I can’t write anything today
but even that I
thought
of how to write...
so I am still a
writer