TIGER TALK
It don’t matter what I do.
I still got a tiger ina my lap.
Most of the time sleepin’.
Sometimes awake an’ purrin’.
When I look, it’s always bigger
than I remember.
Course it could just be
them drug store glasses I wear.
Then when I’m least expectin’,
it shoots out claws an’ growls.
Jeez, what the hell was that?
I look outa the window an’ see
this woman I usta know.
An’ it all makes sense to me.
ONE FOR THE MONEY . . .
Maybe there’s a wall somewhere
I ain’t hit but I don’t know where.
Sure, my brain gots some dents.
Whose doesn’t, huh?
I’m mindin’ my own business,
turn the corner an’ wham!
Right ina head.
So’s I back up some,
turn an’ yeah, you got it--
Wham! Bam! Again.
I don’t know how they get there.
I know there’s people ona other side.
Can’t believe, though, they’s throwin’ em up.
I mean they’s friends.
Maybe I gotta figure this again.
If my friends are stonewallin’ me,
what’re them doin’ who hates me?
Not to mention the billions
that don’t give a damn.
NOT LUCKY AT LOVE, NEITHER
My sister just called.
Yeah, I know, I got the phone
hooked up again an’ don’t know why.
Jesus, I thought she died in 1973.
I knew it was her after two words--
that quiverin’ between syllables.
Good as a fingerprint.
God almighty, I think, why me?
An’ after alla these years.
She stuttered a bit--
made no sense at all.
Like babble from beyond.
Wait a minute, I says.
Where’re you callin’ from?
Nothin’ but dead silence, then static
like some devil stokin’ fire.
Las Vegas, she says at last.
Stashus from the unpublished collection, STASHU UNDONE
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Stashu Kapinski, the guy who wrote these poems, is a sometime bum living in my skin. He doesn't get out much, but when you hear (and smell) him, you know he's noone else. He's pissed about a lot of things--being out of work for so long, the steel mills in Pittsburgh closing down, getting old, the price of beer, you name it. But he hasn't given up. There are still moments when he feels like the King of Polish Hill.
After 10 years as Professor of English and Creative Writing at the University of the Virgin Islands, St. Thomas, Joseph Lisowski is now teaching at Mercyhurst College North East along the shores of Lake Erie. If you look real hard, you can find him sticking on the web in spots like Thunder Sandwich, Niederngasse, Serpentine, Wired Art for Wired Hearts, Born Magazine, The Isle Review, Free Zone Quarterly, etc.
poetry editor New Works Review |
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