Thursday, January 28, 2010

Reasonable Facsimile


Reasonable Facsimile


Back in the day, and admittedly, you were not born yet
but I was already past high school, college, and worried
that my urine was trickling slower than last year they had
contests where you did not even need the original form.

I forget [Alzheimer's?] what it was called but it
was as if they were going to trust that you had seen the
factory model. And somehow misplaced it. Here, just
take this piece of paper. Get a pen. Sit down and --

There was a time when I could have spelled my name
and yours in that very snowbank, glistening golden.
With punctuation. But time marches on. Things
-- change that empty space there into what they call a

c. Ciprianowords, Inc. 2010

Friday, January 22, 2010

Sleep


Sleep


The first effect is gravity. The situation
of being sideways. One with the horizon.
As Heart says That's more like it
Brain tells hundreds of switchboard
operators they can punch the clock.

We're going into auto-pilot. Voluntary
muscles de-conscript -- ........ now!

c. Ciprianowords Inc. 2010

Saturday, January 16, 2010

The Upright Position


The Upright Position

I knew it was ten without counting. Because

instantly I knew everything. The cabbie that
hit me would die from a heart attack twelve
years from now. Huffing and puffing, yelling
in whatever language, I saw him dialing on
his cellphone -- and a volcano fuming away.

Squares sort of revolving, and as they spun

Coming out of a homeless shelter throwing
a sandwich against the curb shouting, Fuck!
Stale! Seeing me, the same man pointed
laughing. And a baby was crying in a crib.

they became triangles, and now ten perfect
spheres were the backsides of the squares.

A girl lit a candle and stuck it in the neck of
a wine bottle. Sitting on the floor she moved
a ruby-red gem on a game board and a man
cried Damn. A pilot flicked a switch as eight
wheels came out of the belly and a steward

I realized, I guess, in that eternal moment
that there are no shapes -- only angles.

told a nun in full habit to return her tray to

c. Ciprianowords, Inc. 2010

Saturday, January 09, 2010

Ground Zero


Ground Zero


Where the towers had been we walked
Groves and I did The steel frame in
scattered shards here and there jutted
like a menacing stegosaurus Dead
from a bout with mathematical perfection

We spoke little knowing that worse would
pounded not into cactus and dirt days
hence but people be dropped Silent we
listened to sand turned to green glass
break apart under our boots

From there to the transport his hand
was on my shoulder Every step an echo
that this damn crunching is what the
earth sounds like when it cries On a
fuck-hot afternoon July of 1945

c. Ciprianowords, Inc. 2010

Periphery


Periphery


Thankfully Puerto Vallarta has Walmex.
Second day in, I bought a racquet there.
Might have been your skirt, your mane,
or the way both bobbed, swaying, bringing
the corner of my eye to the balcony.

Third day, I was out there with my Yonex.
Walking around, waiting for no-one, while
the ball-machine spat yellow missiles.
Nothing got past your Prince. On a bench
I died death after death. Sweating.

Fourth day, fifth. I'm sitting there dissecting
every grunt. You bent to tie a lace, and I
leaned over heaven's banister. Without
looking left, you caught that bullet in your
hand. And I knew, I should go now.

c. Ciprianowords, Inc. 2010.

Saturday, January 02, 2010

The Pines


The Pines


After the break, when she said it’s over
he found himself often among the trees
surrounding Pink Lake. But he was never
alone. Two boots, two legs, but never a
breath he took, without her.

It was the green needles, piercing him.
Smell is the sense that most reminds.
But he did not think this as he walked,
he
just breathed, in and out. Knowing –
do not go home just yet. -- Walk.

c. Ciprianowords, Inc. 2010

Friday, January 01, 2010

This Side of It











This Side of It

I feel, more than anything, [pause] No, but listen. To continue to misunderstand each other as we've been doing this whole time it's just / it seems so childish. [pause] OK, but isn't it possible to you that I felt the same? [pause] About you, yes, the way you were -- [pause] Admitted. Conceded. You win that one. But what do you think I've been doing since? Striking at a pinata somewhere? [pause] It's not at all what it looked like -- No. No, I disagree. I could not care if his address were Third Crater, Mars. In fact, I wish [pause] Yes. I know where that is. [pause] I can be there sooner than that.

c. Ciprianowords, Inc. 2010

Thursday: 1:08 a.m.


Thursday: 1:08 a.m.


Uncanny how I looked up, not needing to know
the time. Sensing the hands unmoving
minutes later, my gaze confirmed it.

Nothing a new battery can't fix, and so
in one goes. Later, pages later, I glance.
Has the world stopped spinning?

I smile because I've outlived this device.
But when does the parade start?
One second I will exhale myself.

Tickless, tockless.
Not -- knowing -- what --
-- time -- it -- is.

c. Ciprianowords, Inc. 2010

Sunday, December 27, 2009

Dragon


Dragon


I thought I will awaken.
And when I do, the rooftops
will be above me.
Those we swooped over.

Rolling, hugging my pillow
everything would make sense.
Fall into another adventure
perhaps -- But.

Why is this blood
The credits would roll now.
dripping from where I pinched
my arm?

Upon these green scales.
And the houses. The village.
We are so above everything
as lightning flashes.

c. Ciprianowords, Inc. 2009

Poof


Poof


"The gist" is an interesting phrase.
Gist. What people mean is, Hey! The
crux of the matter, or The point is,
etc. Within the superfluity, lies this.
Or, What granny's really sayin' is...

So, forgive my confusion. Surely tonight
when Cherise brought that third Collins
and you said I am done painting you
Austin, you didn't mean, you didn't mean,
what I mean is, you were not saying --

c. Ciprianowords, Inc. 2009

Saturday, December 26, 2009

Ten and Shorter








Ten and Shorter


Is it wrong for us to be in love?
I mean, you're taller and eleven.
I'm ten and shorter.

That first dinner I guessed it.
Your mother had to bring you.
My father, me.

Day after day we're on our own.
Well, when school's out
and they work.

I have never been happier.
One day I will tell you.
But -- not today.

c. Ciprianowords, Inc. 2009

Tuesday, December 15, 2009

Necessary


Necessary


You want to know the very thing
I don't. And so, when I back away
don't get closer. Have you never
read a single psychology book
or article? Something advising
that the defensive devices of the
average human evolved because
they were necessary?

c. Ciprianowords, Inc. 2009

Sunday, December 13, 2009

The Gentle Hug


The Gentle Hug


Ten years on Dad, I feel again the strength.
The weakness around my neck. Power of
the gentle hug. The water in the corner of
your eye. What I would give now to see it
reflect
the bales of hay, or the perch caught.
The spoon in the tea, the oil changed,
the ghost seen, the garden gardened,
or Helen discovered.

The phone answered. The clink of you
dropping screws into a jar labelled "screws".
Re-aligning that pendulum. Once I awoke
in the night. At the end of the hallway
I saw you cracking hazelnuts as though
only the snow falling outside knew
neither of us were sleeping.

c. Ciprianowords, Inc. 2009

Sunday, December 06, 2009

He or I


He or I


The world, life, affords us a few.
But more likely, less. One.
One that becomes half a poem's
title. That person you hope dies
after you do.

You could not bear it, the loss.
In utter selfishness, you wish grief
upon him. May the burden of
eulogy, be his. Even then,
make it quick.

We dragged nothing in life further
than it could go. Don't change that.
Please? No hearing ear would discern
the subtleties. When only what was,
is.

c. Ciprianoword, Inc. 2009

Tuesday, December 01, 2009

Directions


Directions


I like the way there was that void under the floor mat
for empty beer bottle placement, and the launching
of other detritus. Your Valiant was a sturdy vehicle.
Built for adventure. Hell, it was true to its name.

Brian, do you remember the McDonald's Drive-Thru
on a wintry south Albert night? You recited an army
sized order as I folded the back license plate in half.
Handing me the bag of burgers, you floored it.

But we floundered on a patch of ice -- the car slapping
the wall as I yelled at Jesus. Then [miracle] we were off.
North as Alaska. And I laughed so hard the floor mat
was gone. White dotted lines, zipping past that hole.

More to the right! More to the right!

c. Ciprianowords, Inc. 2009

Monday, November 30, 2009

Parry's Paragraph


Parry's Paragraph


Two doctors with clipboards clippety cloppity.
Hearing, the last sense to leave, hears them
ask something in that unlit tunnel. Mr Parry,
we were notified. You have some words that

I will be cutting through to. You. I will be cut.
I will be cutting. -- Through. Through. I will
be. I, Will, will be cutting through to you. I will
be using my fingers to --

you mentioned to Nurse Millicent. You wanted
these sent to an L.B. Is that correct? Address
is recorded? I think he's gone. He is. Lips were
moving but I got none of that, did you? No. No.

c. Ciprianowords, Inc. 2009

Friday, November 27, 2009

Bounced (At Chesil Beach)


Bounced (At Chesil Beach)


The sun. The eyelid of it, was shutting.
And we, nowhere near done discussing
Hardy's relentless pessimism, were waxing
inarticulate, when you kicked that thing.

It floundered and flounced, somersaulted,
bounced. And landed on another rock,
as we very nearly stopped, and did not.
It was the walking on I shall not forget.

As though you had not defied gravity, nor
thrust one being upon another, neither
concave. Rounded, these met, shivering,
at their polar regions, and stayed.

What I love is that you said nothing. Nor
did I. Our held hands blessed your cairn,
as fireflies heard of Tess, Angel, and
Stonehenge, for [perhaps] the first time.

c. Ciprianowords, Inc. 2009

Sunday, November 22, 2009

Mom's Rhubarb Pie


Mom’s Rhubarb Pie


Who would think that green dragon wings
in the garden corner, clustered in a coven
could be attached to something so tasty?
Purple stalks hidden by this unruly canopy.
Bite one and consider the artistry needed.
Slicing, sugaring, syrupping, spicing –
A flaky crust must then be conjured, and all
baked into existence.

Tonight, at a whim, I walked into Memories.
Known for their desserts.
At a window seat I sipped a Monte Cristo coffee.
The glimpsed mile-high imposter on display
danced in my head, but I did not take her hand.
Did not order a slice. It would not be as good.
Could not be, as good.

c. Ciprianowords, Inc. 2009

Wednesday, November 18, 2009

Like A Runway


Like A Runway


Does heavy cloud cover mean the game is off?
They have instruments, even instinct, been-here-before
to guide them. Flying blind, there are few unknowns
really. Barring divine intervention, this hotel will go
where they put it. Delta-192 clear on Apron 11-B, Over.

The only way these 2,400 miles have been predictable
is repetition. The walkway is slowly extended toward
the door. Soon, someone who failed high school will
usher us onward, and we'll go. Honey, nothing is perfect.
But, as I lick your knees, your inner thigh, and upward,

everything that is happening, eyes closed, is --

c. Ciprianowords, Inc. 2009

Monday, November 16, 2009

Worsted










Worsted

Yes. Nice try. And I was born last night in a barn!
He lifts the two end tiles -- The word means yarn,
she pleads, slapping them back. Having none of it,
he grabs her wrists, saying, Where is the fun of it
if you keep inventing stuff like this? She pouts,
reaching for the dictionary. Listen, he shouts,
If you think I'm conceding six points for your 'd'
landing on the triple letter score, you're crazy!

He turns away as she holds the page up to his eyes.
Be happy with your five letters. Do you realize
you've won the last two games? Leaving the book
open on the table, she allows him this second look.
But he folds the board. And as the tiles clatter
so does her heart, in as many pieces, shatter.
She runs away, and the bedroom door is slammed,
as worsted stares back at him. Well, I'll be damned.

c. Ciprianowords, Inc. 2009

Friday, November 13, 2009

A Piece of Sunset


A Piece of Sunset


There you are, washing the egg-flipper.
No. Not somewhere else, but right here,
same world I inhabit. Same walls.
Same bills. Same toilets. Same children.

A few strands of your hair fall forward.
Others remain tied. Rinsed forks clatter
like castanets, defying anything domestic.
Strutting a fandango -- you aren't here.

I lean in closer to hear you humming,
nearly falling in the sand at your feet. I know
that song goddammit -- a piece of sunset
made you squint. And I remembered.

c. Ciprianowords, Inc. 2009

Thursday, November 12, 2009

First Friday


First Friday


Breakfast on the same side of the table.
Had you not insisted on this, we'd never have known.

I love when you first suggested such a thing. Other
meals matter not. In the morning, our shoulders will touch.

So there we were, with our cereal, that first Friday.
After a swallow, I turned my spoon toward you.

Curved side out, all's well. Flipping it round, concave,
well, everything between us is awry.

There was nothing for me to do but excuse myself
and stand behind your chair as you leaned back.

I cupped your breasts, and we kissed, topsy turvy.
All the while, how glad I was, you chose this configuration.

c. Ciprianowords, Inc. 2009

Sunday, November 01, 2009

Aunt Elsie


Aunt Elsie


Not just the clanging of the dinner bell.
Difficult as this is to forget. Or her shrill call.
The walk-in-and-wander food pantry.
None of this brings her back as clearly to me as that
squint she had, sun or no. Nothing to do with light.

That narrowing of the eyes meant laughter, sadness,
punishment, linoleum repairs, change the channel,
chicken heads to be cut off, storm tomorrow, I had too
many children, or most of all, most of all -- open
yours as much as you can, while you can.

c. Ciprianowords, Inc. 2009

Billboard


Billboard


Being from a small town, I know that the first time I saw one I marveled.
Gasped and marveled. Perhaps not in that order.
May have marveled first.

I had not seen advertisement in such a large scale. I was overwhelmed.
Sincerely. As a child, profoundly enamored. Nothing held precedence.
There was one -- it said something about Percival Mercury, the best cars
were here -- Jesus, why would you go somewhere else? I could not breathe.
Can we move to this city, Father?

We are working on it, Son.
I would have endured any trial to get to the land of Billboard.

c. Ciprianowords, Inc. 2009

Saturday, October 31, 2009

The Sieve


The Sieve


Here's what I am saying.
When sent, message trumps messenger.
Receiver reads sent, not intended to convey.
All thoughts come in at the top of the head.
They filter down. God help you if there is no
sieve.

My mother had several. None of them were
installed in her head, but she made terrific rolls.
I've excelled in different areas. No baking.
But I try to ensure that what I say
has fallen through what would have left flour
trapped.

c. Ciprianowords, Inc. 2009