“Well, while I’m here I’ll
do the work –
and what’s the Work?
To ease the pain of living.
Everything else, drunken
dumbshow.”
– Allen Ginsberg
… I finally stopped
twenty years an adjunct, freshman comp
and then were all these other things
like Sunday and Tuesday.
Saw a fox in Massachusetts
a great blue heron when we got home
Saw the new moon’s shining slice
and a planet in the west.
doing its work.
Saturday morning
Lee and I drive up to Mass.
stop at the store
wait on a line
buy legal grass.
Pick up Ross.
It’s Chinese New Year:
Year of the Rat
its grey we find
a table at the Chinese
buffet
looks a little rugged
at 2:30.
The chef makes us fresh
chicken and broccoli
We hear him working the wok.
Happy New Year!
He says bringing out the tray.
And we are so happy.
Saturday afternoon at Walmart
Brockton, Mass
for the guys to buy swim trunks,
the announcement, repeatedly:
“Joan Baez, please come to the service desk.”
I find a jar of honey from Virginia.
“Joan Baez, please come to the service desk.”
At the Hampton Inn the indoor pool
is full of sloshing kids.
I don’t undress.
The guys go down to look at it.
“Raindrops Keep Falling on My Head”
is playing in the elevator.
Ross shaves in our hotel room.
No razors are allowed at his house.
I ask if he cleaned up the sink he says yes
good work I say.
Later I see the new white bar
of hotel soap covered with black hairs.
His face looks better, though.
Saturday night in the rain
the three of us at Dave and Busters.
I drank Long Island Iced Teas
too fast
when out of plays of skee ball
go looking for Lee and Ross
for hours
walking in circles and hours
bells and lights and drunk parents
and young kids dashing.
When I find them I am told
only 8 minutes have passed.
Passing out on the work,
happy with the imagery.
On the way home Sunday
we stopped and hiked
somewhere in Connecticut.
We could look across the Sound
and see our town,
but still had a long way to drive.
The sun came out
and wind ripped the ridge.
When I stepped to the edge
the fox
moved from the unseen ledge
beneath us
where he was warming himself.
It was an old fox and he trotted
‘til he was out of sight through the winter forest.
At home I thought it was a spider
trying to get inside.
It was only bird
poop on the window
this cold Sunday night.
Tuesdays I see my therapist Sandy.
Afterward
I often eat carbs and shop
Sometimes
I drink too much or nap.
I wanted to talk about shame.
It seems to keep coming up.
She is quick to seize on it.
Today it is two brioche rolls
from the old school bakery
with butter.
Later I’m printing on the backs
of all my old teaching handouts:
syllabi, surveys, assessments,
assignments
violence.
I’m printing new stuff on the back:
dreams, notes, a book review, a palimpsest,
an article a listicle a long ass essay.
I make the back the front
back once blank now faces forward.
I do this work in haste and make mistakes
against mortality and shame
happy
with the imagery
doing the work.