Wildflower
Nowadays, no walking is needed.
Plastic numbers will send tame ones
Around the globe at a click. Try it.
Think of someone in need, first.
Potted, wrapped, still dripping of dew.
Carded and be-ribboned, only idiots
And madmen sidestep such efficiency
Or walk somewhere.
I thought all of this before yesterday,
When… on a hillside I knelt as though
The world were a cathedral. And knew
That I can only enjoy this, by staying.
© Ciprianowords Inc. 2008
We Didn’t Start The Fire We would all meet at Tony Jaro’s and someone would start it.
The talking, the topic, the joke, and never a dull moment,
Elapsed. The time I most remember is one I cannot forget.
We were sitting there and as I reached across three shoulders
To grab a fresh Samuel Adams from Gordie it seemed as though
Even that wretched Billy Joel song clamped itself shut and...
It was always burning since the world's been turning.
We didn't start the fire
No
We didn't light it but we tried to fight it.
And David said, “You know, nothing has been the same since
We learned to talk,” and instantly I was dizzy with a feeling
Neanderthal and prophetic. And I recalled how goddamn...
1953 Joseph Stalin, Malenkov, Nasser and Prokofiev
Rockefeller, Campanella, Communist Bloc. 1954 Roy Cohn
Juan Peron, Toscanini, Dacron…
How goddamn difficult, how difficult it was to tie this tie
Around my neck tonight, before I came here. Before. Long
Before I met with my friends.
© Ciprianowords Inc. 2008
we grow up when I was a kid it would rain and earthworms would come from somewhere and be everywhere. by the thousands at the drains, my sister and I would run as the rainbow came out to the curbs and gather them, worms for the helpless taking. in our hands, a living spaghetti of fun would coil and fret, as we laughed, kneeling. no conquering knight proud of plunder ever rejoiced as we did after a thunder. and I wonder, I will tell you what it is I wonder. I ask where have the worms gone. tonight I walked home in a downpour and I felt my entire childhood a farce, a false history. there are no worms in the curbs, drifting anywhere and no one running. sadder still, if worms in squiggly mountains squirmed, even I would keep walking.© Ciprianowords Inc. 2008
Aging White at the sides, above the ears I noticed them today. Whispy hair Like snow fresh fallen appears To have rested, unmelting there. Should I fight it or become forlorn Will neither matter, bye and bye. I shall not fret nor have it shorn; Shall calmly age, and never dye.© Ciprianowords Inc. 2008
Lanolin For eighty feet or so we are together, mere seconds. She hobbles in, cute as a sheep, and I smile. Her gnarled finger illuminates the “L” on the panel. Our eyes meet, and “venerable” unbidden springs. I sip at my coffee, glancing at her silver slippers. …From here to the moon those feet have walked. The door opens and a clink of keys breaks my reverie. Ahh! She is going to check her mail, a wink as we part. In that final descent to the parking garage, I move to Where she stood, and breathe in six distinct thoughts Of my own grandmother. Scenes, words, stories. As I walk to my car, several more arrive… memories. And three questions, as I drive to work bug me. What is that smell? What is that the smell of? What is that smell called?© Ciprianowords Inc. 2008
The Shape I Gave You Water looks like what it’s in. Else it’s flat, and spread too thin. The shape of you is much the same. It needs a cup, a house, a frame. It wasn’t long before I knew The very curve and slope of you Belonged in me, to never part My ever loving, beating heart.© Ciprianowords Inc. 2008
