11/30/10: Etzel Itzik

My mother said, when I spoke of you today
over limonana--
humos lunch
that I still light up when your name comes up,
and I smiled at the thought--
just two more nights apart.

11/30/10: Miami, my Parents' Backyard

Above, dark clouds tell
of rain; here on the ground, sun
white heat burns senses.

11/29/10: North Miami Beach, Walking to the Dollar Movies

Above N.M.B., there's just
too much sky,
fits tight 'round my head:
Sun-fire. Cowboy hat.

11/27/10: Miami: I-95 South

Palm trees explode
green brown fireworks line
the stuttering grey river.

11/23/10: Miami: a Memorial

Coming in through the gate of
my parents’ dark house
from a dinner of humus and Israeli pickles
I stepped on a sidewalk snail,
fat, and green.

I hadn’t seen it--
white shell in blue moonlight,
but felt its shell breaking.
It was heartbreaking.

11/21/10: Lincoln Rd., Miami Beach

Things you can buy:

Broken in jeans
whiskered and worn
with holes in the knees
and a pocket that’s torn,
a brown trucker hat
with a patch that says
“Pabst”,
and an old gray hoodie
that used to be black.
Instant nostalgia
can be yours for the taking!
So long as you can afford it,
who’ll care that you’re faking?

Musings on Colors

Will someone explain to me
please, if they could,
why red states are red,
and blue states are blue?
To me, red
is passion,
socialism,
and blood,
revolution,
brotherhood,
struggle,
and good.
Whereas blue
is for "blue blood",
and cold WASPy hands
grasping highballs of
Scotch
in oak paneled
rooms.
Red is for “VICTORY!”
but blue means “First Place”.
All these colors
confuse me,
I'll admit, it’s a
disgrace.
So I guess I’ll be purple,
(the color of change.)
Let's leave it at that
what more's there to say?

11/21/10: Miami

11/21/10: Miami
In Miami, it seems,
they’ve done away with garbage men;
just a driver
and a truck
with those big robotic arms
that come to collect
those big green plastic bins
you know, the ones they have on wheels,
you must’ve seen them
someplace.

9:03 a. m.
you hear the engines whirr
the lift, and then the thunk-
and then the truck moves on.
He doesn't even need
to leave the comfort of his cabin,
which I think would be just great,
in one of those freak
Miami snowstorms!
"It's progress", they say,
"no one needs to get dirty, and
no one needs to break his back!"

As a matter of fact,
no one's needed much
at all.

11/16/10: Construction

"No man ever steps into the
same river twice,
for it's not the same river,
and he's not
the same man"
-Heraclitus

Metal ladders clanking and screeching into place
_____and ringing as men climb them
Jackhammers busting up concrete sidewalks asphalt streets
_____ancient bricks
Bulldozers rumbling into usefulness, grinding piles of
_____broken bedrock
Sounds of things going up
Sounds of things coming down
The city is never complete
There is no such thing as forever.

11/16/10: E88th St. btwn. 2nd & 3rd

Yellow, wet, balding trees
yesterday, were green
overnight, Fall.

11/12/10: Central Park, 79th St. Transverse

Above the transverse,
black Autum branches cut sharp
through cold blue dusk sky.

11/12/10: York Av. @ 82nd St.

Night wind high leaves shake
shimmering silver green fish
dance in ocean sky.

Koicha

Bamboo brush in rough clay bowl
spread macha
____________whip water
music ._____a chant.


Koicha- (Japanese) thick tea
Macha- (Japanese) powdered green tea leaves without stems or veins.

Night Ride on the M103 Bus

Woman missing teeth chews green gum;
she’s wearing a red ski cap.

“65th St. next.”
Unintelligible message from mission control:
trains out of service,
shuttles in place.

"68th."

An ancient “have-not”, holds onto what he has:
worn brown paper bag, creased like the backs of
his hands.

“72nd St.”

Cellphone Hebrew, in the back,
couple Hindi in the middle.

“75th St. next.”

An Aussie hat and a
Back strapped guitar.
Cowboy boots.

“77th.”

Burberry trench coat, Gucci loafers:
an important frown hanging
over his Blackberry.

“79th.”

New boots
Old boots
Flip-flops
Ballet flats.

“82nd.”

smells of surreptitiously
swallowed dinners fill the bus:
French fries
Chinese
something with curry.


“86th St.”

Yellow cab cut off
Horn blow—
Brake slam
Garbage truck splash

“88th “
“back door please.”



Wankel’s windows already
covered in Christmas;
thick gray sweater tugged tight,
I hoist my backpack
grab my groceries
and take the
short cold walk home.

For Hala Alyan

I have read your lines
slowly—______tasting each word
like a confection.

Why I Have To Go Shopping

Paperweight
hockeypuck
formerly frozen,
toasted twice
(gluten free):
tough as the suede
on the side of a
1976 seven year old’s
water weathered
sun dried
sidewalk scuffed
rarely tied
orthopedic
saddle shoe.

Never the less,
breakfast.

Thanksgiving

The turkey sits
headless, an ironic celebration
of freedom.