Their Power Dies
Posted: Mon Apr 21, 2008 6:26 am
Their Power Dies
- Jez, I remember you
this day
I tamed the psychoses
and success
of yesterday
wrapped them into
a neat ball
kicked them away
spoke with Jeremiah
and Malachi
asked them what to do
when the television
speaks to me
of secret plots
the coming war
the plagues of
idolatry and shame
I look up
fifteen of them
two security guards
a doctor with an
index finger
lodged in his chin
the nurse sticks it in
it stings a little
I look to the doctor
he smiles
as the neuroleptic
fills my mind
until I cannot see
anymore
The sun scarpers
in the red dust
I walk faster
to the Subway store
I want a one-footer
full of health
and a diet Coke -
it’s hot.
There is a man
reading the King James
on a lonely table
I tell him ‘I’m not sure -
G-d used to mess
with my head’
He looks at me
whispers ‘Thank you’
then leaves
I reread this poem
try to move
in the mess of it all
I find two mates
some family
and a no-fuss G-d -
decent, patient
I turn to ‘Him’
for balance
and order
and clarity.
The woman
down the road,
the one in control
of the shop
and the senate,
she knocks on
my door
and asks me why
her husband
left
‘Woman, why do
you ask me? I am
but nothing. I know
not why the sun
rises or sets.’
She retorts, ‘You
seek forgiveness,
you know nothing
of power!’
I lean over
and remove
a leaf
from her hair
‘And you do not
know Providence’
I put the leaf
in her hand
- Jez, I remember you
this day
I tamed the psychoses
and success
of yesterday
wrapped them into
a neat ball
kicked them away
spoke with Jeremiah
and Malachi
asked them what to do
when the television
speaks to me
of secret plots
the coming war
the plagues of
idolatry and shame
I look up
fifteen of them
two security guards
a doctor with an
index finger
lodged in his chin
the nurse sticks it in
it stings a little
I look to the doctor
he smiles
as the neuroleptic
fills my mind
until I cannot see
anymore
The sun scarpers
in the red dust
I walk faster
to the Subway store
I want a one-footer
full of health
and a diet Coke -
it’s hot.
There is a man
reading the King James
on a lonely table
I tell him ‘I’m not sure -
G-d used to mess
with my head’
He looks at me
whispers ‘Thank you’
then leaves
I reread this poem
try to move
in the mess of it all
I find two mates
some family
and a no-fuss G-d -
decent, patient
I turn to ‘Him’
for balance
and order
and clarity.
The woman
down the road,
the one in control
of the shop
and the senate,
she knocks on
my door
and asks me why
her husband
left
‘Woman, why do
you ask me? I am
but nothing. I know
not why the sun
rises or sets.’
She retorts, ‘You
seek forgiveness,
you know nothing
of power!’
I lean over
and remove
a leaf
from her hair
‘And you do not
know Providence’
I put the leaf
in her hand
)