.........The Poetry Of.
.......................................... Wayne Noone
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............... Last Night in the Heat
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............. Last night in the heat I dreamed
............. there were teenagers dancing
............. outside my window,
............. the girls bare bellied and laughing,
............. boys setting off firecrackers, and
............. me in my undershorts,
............. squatting behind the curtains
............. with my pistol in my hand.
............. Then later as dreams do
............. there was this fellow standing
............. beside my bed who was seven feet tall,
............. clad in black drapery with
............. a slouch hat on his head and whose
............. face was worms.
............. When I woke up
............. it was Monday morning and you and I
............. both know
............. there really is
............. no restitution, no sir.
............. But when I was a kid I saw once
............. on the ground a length
............. of intestine
............. that some dog or cat or other
............. mid-sized mammal had somehow
............. managed to pass.
............. It lay glistening in the grass, and perhaps
............. it's good that you and I
............. should know that sentient beings
............. are capable of such feats in the hope
............. that we too may yet become free
............. through expulsion of diseased
............. or corrupted parts of ourselves,
............. voidance of cancerous bowel,
............. expectoration of lung,
............. vomiting forth sections of
............. jaundiced liver, and doing likewise
............. with all the senseless blunders of our lives.
............. Isn't that what the prophets tell us
............. happens in heaven, how
............. God, taking us in His hands like
............. fruit gone brown,
............. twists away our flesh and imperfections
............. revealing a crusted shell and
............. even that splits asunder
............. finding the white seed within,
............. which if you've tasted it,
............. (you should taste it)
............. is very bitter yet
............. oh so very smooth.
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.............. For Helen
...............
.............. Old Polish babka,
.............. I see you on the fourth of July
.............. In your lawnchair on the front yard
.............. Watching the fireworks,
.............. Your face upturned and open
.............. In the festive light.
.............. When my father and I
.............. Combated the demons of drink
.............. By battling each other
.............. You, hearing our frequent rage
.............. Told me once
.............. You shouldn't fight with your father,
.............. You shouldn't fight.
.............. Now a red sign like a stigma
.............. Hangs from your screendoor:
.............. Oxygen.
.............. I see your daughter on occasion
.............. Hanging clothes in the back.
.............. Congestive heart failure she says.
.............. I know not what chariot will come
.............. To put an end to your choking
.............. And carry you away.
.............. But know that for some time to come
.............. I will remember, and
.............. Carry in my pocket the feathers
.............. Of your raspy voice.
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.............. Pan
..............
.............. When the heat brings the sap up
.............. and the world goes green
.............. and the hot sun makes the sweat
.............. trickle like pee
.............. down the young girls' thighs,
.............. I come forth.
.............. Naked, save for my dove gray
.............. ten gallon stetson
.............. and lime green alligator boots,
.............. my belly huge and swollen,
.............. a great pregnancy
.............. sloshing low below the lip
.............. of my neon blue speedo,
.............. the hair growing coarse like quills
.............. down my back to give the gals
.............. purchase for the fuck.
..............
.............. I am the great god Pan,
.............. and I am sweat and gusto and life forever.
.............. I'm the rash on your crotch
.............. and the blood that spews from a boxer's mouth,
.............. and, having traded my pipes
.............. for a Marsh Wheeling, I walk
.............. into every Bally's Spa and along
.............. every topless beach,
.............. I travel the malls and the boardwalks
.............. grinning through my beard
.............. and singing
.............. "Ladies, take a number!"
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