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since 2009
Michael Rothenberg
"Free Man in Paris”
for Joni Mitchell
Wounded, injured, broken, painfully scarred
Possibility is conditional but the hero has his hour…
Art is not all imagery
But an experiment of explosions, underground testing
In the waiting room, in magazine
One page at a time or flipping through several expressions
It's too easy to be hurt, sometimes, belonging to no one
Michael Rothenberg is a poet, songwriter, editor and publisher of the online literary magazine Big Bridge,
www.bigbridge.org and co-founder of the global poetry movement 100 Thousand Poets for Change.
His poetry books include Man/Women, a collaboration with Joanne Kyger, The Paris Journals (Fish Drum Press), Unhurried Vision (La Alameda/University of New Mexico Press),Choose (Big Bridge Press), and My Youth As A Train (Foothills Publishing)
His editorial work includes several volumes in the Penguin Poets series: Overtime by Philip Whalen, As Ever by Joanne Kyger, David’s Copy by David Meltzer, and Way More West by Ed Dorn.
He is also editor of The Collected Poems of Philip Whalen published by Wesleyan University Press.
Rothenberg’s book of poems, Indefinite Detention: A Dog Story is scheduled for publication in 2013 by Ekstasis Editions, Victoria, B.C., Canada, and in 2014 by both Shabda Press (USA) and Al Kotob Khan (Cairo, Egypt) in an Arab/ English edition, translated by El Habib Louai.
DAY OF CHANGE
Toothpick, quarter, nickel, four pennies, red paper clip
No one to call
All heroes gone
Briefcase, calendars, fresh sharpened pencils
Business cards with another change of address
What did it mean when I said, "Don't stop" and she said, "I haven't even started."
Family photos
When will they bury me?
Puppet Shakespeare, stone crab claw relic, dead coral verse
Everyone complains, philosophical
Equipment malfunctions
Wash towels, dishes, sheets, face
Brush hair, teeth
Keep up appearances
until license plate, jazz lamp, onyx letter opener become slivers
in a nightmare-Armada of small jinxed boats
Like after hurricane Donna when kids paddled down flooded Miami streets
Or when the outboard motor leapt into an Everglades swamp and sank
No one told me to chain it down
I rowed home against a rising tide
*
Somewhere in the Keys,
a mile out, fishing for sheepshead and snapper
in rolling waves by tolling buoy when a storm blows in
We can’t beat it back to shore
Soaked in matching windbreakers,
tiny white sneakers and daybreeze scarves,
we bail with cup and saucer until
an old Dutch freighter takes us all aboard
Faces whipped by tears and rain
Mom thought it was the end of the family line
*
Tides played on, drummed black sand shores, thundering again. Seagulls, white-ruffled, perched on tide-bound cliff
Braced against flying Pacific swell and brine, while she thought of something else, Odessa, Black Sea or Crimea, not my deep need for intimacy
So I set sail, slept in a thousand rooms, drove desert west, then south through clattery muck and thick green flesh of Florida, turnpiked and truckstopped, aimlessly, so maybe just once I could face the ocean's fist, infinite daylight, play on bird's-nest reef, sift through olive, scallop, conch shell, painlessly, conjure the stroke of tide, her pale narrow wrists, adore. . .
But that beach has slipped. Only dark poetry drives me
Pocket change, typing paper, blood-red inkjets
*
I took my son, Cosmos, and a shopping list
Bought size 1 running shoes, gray heeled socks
Bounced across the mall parking lot picking up lost pennies in potholes
*
Columbus Day weekend
Sailing, synchronized clouds blossom overhead
Impossible blue jets in formation
cross between towers of joyous Golden Gate
Bumper to bumper we drove up the ridge
then down by foot, over slick face of scrubby Marin headland
Almost fell asleep in the treble of pebbles bouncing on our heads
But we couldn't sleep, and what she said and I said
counted for nothing
*
See an exhibition of women's art
Four plaster death masks
None of them mine
I sign the guest book
to make a place, always
But never enough of a place to make a point, make a trip, guide
my free broken spirit into myth.
XLIV MUSÉE DE L’INSTITUT DU MONDE ARABE
Atop Musée de l’Institut du Monde Arabe facing Notre Dame
Under steel, glass and salmon tapestries draped between palm
Fronds, I eat lamb in a clay casserole of prunes, nuts, astrolabe
Forbidden magic texts, celestial spheres and astrological manuscripts
A mosaic of optical window shutters adjusting to hours of
Light and night, scales, Koran, oil lamps, fragments of funereal
Stele, Kurdish tapestries, The Hunt, The Flower, The Court
Funereal frieze, funereal column, tile, Tunisia, Syria and Iran
Yemen, Morocco, Egypt, Jew, Christian and Islam, savoring every
Bubbling forkful of lusterware glass and pottery, a dagger’s crystal
Handled imbedded with rubies, pearl, a gold filigree necklace
Stuffed with perfume, hare, fish, lion, calligraphic morsel rescued
From House of Wisdom, illuminated, I buy a sweet baguette
A few postcards, admire the flying buttresses of Notre Dame
Cross the river again to sit in a park. It’s very warm.
I feed the pigeons. The pigeons eat their feast of crumbs.
POLARIZATIONS
“A madman doesn’t need success. All he needs is a good hospital.”
Mohammed Mrabet
Experiment is an accident
no matter how carefully planned.
Can’t you see
I’m walking
between abstraction and magic
Because that’s who I am
The buffalo of the Great Plains
ghosting skittish herds
on Champs d’Élysées
under deconstruction. Supervised
by The New Pound Projective
Semioticians
and The Magicians of Jazz Street
Medicines & Mirrors
Weight gain & Hair-loss
Wallpaper of Hollywood Muse
Switching between Calvinist
projection and a drunken buffet
Call the doctor
or print your own magazine
Distribution is academic.
11/23/2000
All work (c)2013 Michael Rothenberg