TEETER-TOTTER
He was Popeye the Sailor Man
--at least in Picture book and poem
the mind falling from a drooping ledge,
thrust of twilight though working
up to the bargaining edge of words ...
Then, synchronicity and cuteness
aside, the all too old
pretending became the
gaping edge of Popeye's
spinach can, a soul lost
not to Sweet Pea or Olive
Oil, but barnacle and
rip-tides of a brain
slipping its moorings free.
[57]
CHEMIN DE FER
Had I been
a gambling man,
eschewing the "shoe"
of chemin de fer ...
perpetually perched upon that throne
... effete kingdom of the dice.
II
I am that gambling man ...
taking free access to many
a natural habitat, lure
of the open road,
contents under a bottle cap,
the riverine delicacies
of female flesh. Svelte, like
the croupier's green vision of cloth,
tingley-trigger smooth yet addictive
to the touch.
III
Or the pleasures of Ovaltine
(not necessarily the brand name)
... by the handful or cup ...
upon a summer's day,
the mind blur of expensive art.
IV
Blackjack. Three card stud.
The poker-faced look of
many opponents peeling cards
from the bottom of the deck,
some ear-marked for success
with time-honoured stratagems
(& doctored hands) that leave me
reeling (or is it nursing) patent-made regrets.
V
Something primeval about wanting
to trade up your fortune at the
expense of the House. Ambuscades.
Indecision.
VI
Games of chance
the apt metaphor
of our daily roulettes.
[58]
WITHIN REACH
There are two images,
a moon within reach
yet trapped under snow--
an old woman's threadbare shawl
with peasants furiously working brooms
scraping ice shavings
into howls and husks of frenzy.
Ii
Then the same pond,
this time summer
with fishing nets,
and briefer shawls
pirating light's wanton swoon,
a spyglass hour moon
all bathed in yellow
colour of kerosene
--a rich creamy butter--
goldilocks let out on weekends
her spun, golden tresses
lowered onto the water
like so many little boats
nimbly hopping aboard.
lii
A kerchief folded on a fence
a man wearing an overcoat living there
in white satin swooning
to the pianist's expert touch
down magic chambers
soothing, soothing there
to fold and tear
the pileated moonlit edge
of her skin.
[60]