Song of a Reformed Headhunter

Poetz is back. Jackie Sheeler is back in force. Now it has not one poetry calendar but six up-to-date calendars for different locations, including Chicago, San Francisco, Philadelphia and, of course, New York City. It also  has an in-house poetry journal called Poetzine. The spring issue publishes 12 poets. I have three ghazal s in it. *

Toxic flora. Poisonous fauna. Welcome, world. *

I thought I was done with my pillow book, but it is not done with me. I could replace the weakest link. Which one is it? The cartoons I loved xxx The cartoons I loved to trace were Conan the Barbarian, wrists lashed with ropes to his ankles, and Flash Gordon, heaving under chains. Superhuman strength against unbreakable restraint. xxx Matt tied to his bed, that was the first time I was hard enough to penetrate. xxx To make Wolverine, the adamantine has to go in. *

Here's the final poem of my pillow book, to make up the mystical number of thirty-three: 33. I mark my place in books xxx I mark my place in books with bits of trash. A bus ticket in Great Expectations . A grocery receipt in Beyond Good and Evil . In The Ambassadors an old postcard from Singapore. It occurs to me this morning while shelving my books that I mark my place in men with bits of my body. My dick in Todd. Big toe in Doug. Eric, whom I thought I was done with, has my left elbow. The beautiful boy last night who did not give his name has all of my fingers holding him open. *

I made a small change to the title, and it has made all the difference. 32. All Things xxxxx All things diminish as they grow older, a friend of many years said last week. Even the expanding universe must contract. This morning, as I am boiling water to make coffee, his words come back to me, as sure as before, but smaller, because the whistling of the kettle takes up space. The steam was not so long ago a patch of snow. Love is what life boils into. *

31. Hybrid Things xxx Not only India but Japan. Think, for a moment, of Zen. *

30. Things that Quicken the Pulse xxx Hurricane warning. Running the hand through a man’s thick hair. Merino wool cardigan. A wave of flamingoes taking to the air. Coming on Matisse’s Red Studio . The thought of an approaching quarrel. The restaurant door opens, and lets in a draught. *