Tag: beer

How Sweet The Sound That Saved A Wretch Like Me

veins of my city clotted, dark creases,
ivory white lines. hollowed brightness,
tarnished yellow; a broken sun or
blotted lampost, or like milk, that shade
when it takes to coffee.

faded in translucent clothes,
easily read outfits and
two bit disguises: modern misery
is dolled classic narcissism. obvious –
an inability to say no or swipe left,

cheap thrills with a cover charge.
vapor smoke,overpriced beer,
metro-card limousines and
moonlight passes as if hardly there.
easing through glass like bodies, frail,
sharp, suited, and false as nails.

a stranger’s eyes cast shadows
on a fog in 59th Street- two homeless
men smoke stale cigarettes off the ground.
smiles,just ignore the hope and wile.
a house of mercy built on cardboard.

The Ildiot (aka Homer’s Beer Run)

Heaven is hell-bent,
misshapen sanctuary of senile.
Men make sinners out of love,
sibyls from devils and saints out of
air. The clever pray for deliverance
in a cup, Gods nectar and wheat’s bounty;
bitter-sweet ambrosia by the barrel;
His holy bottled excellence.
A nightly Immortality.

Our hero marches, his voyage soft
to the song of chirping sirens.

Dear deacon of the deli, bringer of
my bread and sacrilege. Clandestine
clerk who offers passage to His hazy
river Styx, in brown paper bags and
long side glances that confess
disbelief a 2AM pilgrimage can wait
for the sacrament of home. Two coins
short and Charon grims, no ferry waits
for those when his toll has gone unpaid.

Our hero cautions his voice to balm,
cold and hooded ears who would deny them.

Forgive me Ahmed, for I am dimmed.
Sweet Gods of Hell and mercy,
grant me light and credit
that I may learn peace and pass
this dark and grim abyss,
to far and pleasant lands
where one dreams and is awake.

Our hero fallen, his journey lost
to the oarmen’s long and awful silence.

His cleric nods, Go-Then, take it, bid farewell,
but Heaven has no room for cleverness.
This world is a loan to be repaid,
and I will you see you once again
with a stone at your back
and Hell at your heels.

Our hero sombers on, his voyage back home safe,
with bags of ambrosia, pockets full of coins,

and the hidden smile
of Sisyphus son.