Wednesday, September 15, 2010

In Memorium

The Great Gorgo

Carney days are dead
Gorgo, the Great, is gone.
The fire-eater extraordinaire
consumed fire
his throat and belly
glowing bigger.
Crazy Gorgo
could blow flames
Through his nose
like a laughing dragon.

mlb                        11/66

Chairman Al

     Chairman Al sits behind his desk
like a delicate spider
his hands judiciously spinning schemes,
explicitly almost prissily
setting out the ground rules.
His instrumentalist mind outling
His words grasping books like flies
and drawing nutriment
from empty heads and fleshy tidbits.
Contingencies and alternatives
spin against and flake
the file cabinets
stuffed with inactive folders
sprinkling the present with past glories.
     His style, a crude mix
of faded ivy league and southwest macho.
Wearing heavy turquoise
like a collapsed halo,
each stone a story,
an endless litany
of carefully cultivated monologues.
Hardboiled mannerisms shrewdly exploit
the exquisite fabric of a self made man.

mlb          6/76         

To Brecht

When I sleep
I sweat all over.
Wind makes
my eyes tear.
I drip.
And each cigarette
pushes my heart.

mlb          7/66

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