there is no need
for debt or debate when one does not mean anything to anybody
the important
point is not to break the chain to be
polite – to say yes & thank you
to be
accommodating to supplement even
supplant desires – to persist – consomenations
irritated whites
drinking Negrons
ah butterfly the
nemesis is you - short life spans
colliding
perhaps all life changing as you
change
encounter & encompass grief – hear
the flutter of 100,000
the sonic tracks of a
silent film
the debt converted to
smoke
windows clouded over
city spitting clouds
that wedge
between the
arches
of
her
high heeled
shoes
i said i’m no longer afraid to look
shuttered windows –
der wekstahlvez
paper
blowing across an empty street
debt or depth or death
which is it
– all fool’s gold
no
matter what the substance
all duped no matter what the price..
werder da cat’s on
its quiet pursuit
the unrest of pigeons
as the prison gates open & you
are released like a steam engine
into the street –
released from your oustem –
& we walk like comrades & i pour the
morning’s waste out of a bucket
as the crowd increases from
single file to tenfold
rows up &
down pathways / cobbles cabals cables
stairways & staring soldiers marching
the organ grinder playing
the draw bridge near collapse
ah mariposa
the factory awaits its
occupants – what is the debt they owe
we owe? - heya-ah heya-ah heya-ah
a pipe – a
moustache – the gears beginning to spin
in a world of mass production
where things are produced for the
masses
though some are only for the
privileged few
finely shaved
& polished shards of steel
infinite bottles
filled & loaves fresh baked
fires
stoked
chimneys pushcarts /
loaded
cars
washed - garbage disposed of
(yet always more
garbage) – days always beginning
children off to school if the
season’s right
weggelerollerda window gates up schlachterha - mer
curtains up
blinds up – mannequins – horses – up –
pillows aired – blinders on
rugs beaten –
butter flies remembering what they were then forgetting
just as quickly –
shoes shined – nails polished
a beautiful walk
thru the park at night
the band playing –
the globe changing (color)
junkies all
quietly tucked away somewhere
dancers as
graceful as flowers
crack one legged
crutch man
no stories about
war or war stories
just elevator
rides and roll-top desks
typewriters
telephones & the printing press
operator operator
i am coming to the end of a tunnel
the light is
beginning to spread
the evacuation of
the dirt that is my heart is in full swing
at all other times
i will dial 311
the barber smiles
the sound of
lighting a cigarette on a singing man’s knee
like achtspracht
breathing
no debt no debate – grief for the moment everlasting
fly away mariposa
– away your colorful wings
the naked children
are here only to exploit you
to explore you
to touch your fascinating
wings -
it was even
shorter than anticipated – a quick beautiful twin burst
too short & me preoccupied with 3
different lives
& she flew torn &
traumatized she flew
but cacophony
calculation dark spectrum debt ceiling & me indebted to few men
heart strumming – cycles – disposing
of the evenings waste
one stage is flying great distances to approach the indecipherable
travelling lord i’m
travelling tryin to make heaven my home
rocks – next – i can’t begin to tell you how
it looks from where i sit
lamp trim &
burning
end time dream
time
indecipherable redness that
reflects an obvious exit
desperation on
every corner
i can’t begin to tell you
mariposa –even from here
in this parking lot there is a history of
butterflies
guns money jelly
rolls
just as there is a history of lost
pages – gaps in memory
always lost here in this
same cocoon
there is for me @ any rate
the mystery of a smile & why
it occurs or when
in all these photographs i
look so pensive
angry, disturbed but
rarely smiling – all bare knuckled
& @ the end i must
shed my cocoon
in a tunnel without end
where depth & ceiling are one
as they press in
upon me-
nemesis – is me oh
butterfly – coal dust - the price i put on things
&
i can’t begin to tell you where it all began
but look there & there & there
& there
& you’ll begin to see the
end.
Steve Dalachinsky nyc
