Excerpt from Cocktails

[the cocktail hour finally arrives: whether ending a day at the office]

the cocktail hour finally arrives: whether ending a day at the office
or opening the orifice at 6am [legal again to pour in californica]: the time is always right

we need a little glamour and glamour arrives: plenty of chipped ice
a green jurassic palm tree planted. a yellow spastic monkey swinging

a pink classic flamingo impaled upon the exuberant read of cherries
dash of bitters. vermouth sweet. enough rye whiskey to kill

this longing: I take my drinks stiff and stuffed with plastic. like my lovers
my billfold of rubbers. OPENs my mouth: its tiny neon lounge


[college roommate gone: his hamper full. I’ll do us both a favor]
My Beautiful Launderette (1985, Stephen Frears, dir.)

college roommate gone: his hamper full. I’ll do us both a favor
sorting his socks like demented wife. smoothing the pillowcase
its callipygous dent splayed bonewhite: spluttered where I laid him

what is a friend but a lover held at bay? we find our quarry
want to tear each other: canines exposed. our leashes tangle
grant us the safety of fenced-in yards: we worry the neighbors

love is seldom a dull chore: I know how to fold his t-shirts
how they smell before and after. washing and tumbling
piggish delight the rooting after truffles. whiff and snout

in his absence I build a model of him. clothed in white undies
starched where he’s starched and softened where he’s soft
I use his favorite bounce. bleach-free tide to hinder chafing

in separate rooms we count on our fingers the passing hours
we know the way each door swings open: how to find each other
agitating in the dark: sheets snaps elastic and those clumsy buttons


[listen mother, he punched the air: I am not your son dying]
a stabat mater


listen mother, he punched the air: I am not your son dying
the day fads and the starlings roost: a body’s a husk a nest of goodbye

his wrist colorless and soft was not a stick of chewing gum
how tell? well a plastic bracelet with his name for one. & no mint
his eyes distinguishable from oyster show? only when pried open

she at times felt the needle going in. felt her own sides cave. she rasped
she twitched with a palsy: tectonic plates grumbled under her feet

soiled his sheets clogged the yellow BIOHAZARD bin: later to be burned
soot clouds billowed out over the city: a stole. a pillbox hat [smart city]
and wouldn’t the taxis stop now. and wouldn’t a hush smother us all

the vascular walls graffitied and scarred. a clotted rend in the muscle
wend through the avenues throttled t-cells. processional staph & thrush

the scourge the spike a stab a shending bile the grace the quenching
mother who brought me here, muddler: open the window. let birds in

Copyright 2004 by D.A. Powell. All rights reserved.