Monday, May 14, 2018

Superimposition


Superimposition
 
 a freeactionary poem
about an imaginary city
West of where I
presently (re)ply
    for/ Anselm Berrigan

"look, up in the sky..."
 
 "... give up verse, my boy,
There’s nothing in it." -- E.P.

facing the wall
or what's left of it, the pissing floor
rises the glee-club of the gutter
& the ganja breakers
flare pockets of their hoodies
not in Gulhani but Gorlitzer
where wild roses over-hang the canal
the crossroad query of mental jogging
goes unabated & the circus of blood
pumps up to the surface of the clock-face
in the window beside the Ecke
where a machete hews kebab.
we take black olives & flat-bread
at Maibach Ufer, plan the half-day of sun,
rolled and smoked then sat on the lawn
by the Spree without knowing
how many films, like soap-bubbles,
had been shot there, tap of the toes,
there's no place like home
and the bottle already
floating downstream submarine
periscope up, look at the sky
which is grey like bone, motionless,
picture of nowhere
everybody knows 
 
May 8, 2018
 
 
 
Berlin 2016, jeff gburek, famous mistakes with ghosts

2 comments:

Marjorie Van Halteren said...

"where a machete hews kebab.
...
how many films, like soap-bubbles,
had been shot there, tap of the toes,
there's no place like home"

Such beautiful and jagged phrases
like shards of glass in a brook

anon M (I am NOT a robot)

transparent abelard said...

thanks for stopping by/ reading...
I'm not sure how to make comments "visible" on the blog site.
but just wanted to say I that I read and appreciate your participation.