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From Then Till Now (Free verse) by Jeremi B. Handrinos
So what will it be now that God is dead? And I have worn my soles back home To find desolate fields of trashy-lots, fenced With ineligible signs tagged by Home-boys For their rookas and hienas to behold: Initials, hearts and forevers, before prison Waiting rooms, and cold battered jail-phones. What will it be when my body turns old And I can no longer stomach the holes Or quick fixes that get me broken smiles As I move from room to room, bus to bus Plane to plane, bed to bed -- Conversations. Cheapened by shallow head trips and trite - - small minded companions, (friends) relatives Vultures dance the Watootsie for some grub. What do I say to that fresh boy next to me On a one way trip to Crackedactorville? "Chin up, ass out, mouth wide, think Icarus"? Or the sun, yes, what will I say to that bastard Burning his days away like a spent hippy While I darken, and wrinkle; then pale to smooth While those closest to me are swept further away By my Babylonian tower of lies and cheap talk. Trust me, I try to think of better times, but -- Gone - - Guided like a gondola full of stupid young love Out into the canals of arterial clotting, and failure. And you, ignorant as marshmallowed yams Down the throat of fat aunts, and sugar daddies My seed was for Galapagos like underwater - - Lizards 'onto something better' vegging out. What do I have but the cloudy sky, day and night Sifting through my memories like a burnt edgy spoon Scooping away symbols, and bargains, deals, flesh But leaving the ice scream for me, and my pets And the monsters that casually exit my closet to - - help a guy out with a light, or say, a good fright. L-trains plunder across my dream-scape, empty People are nowhere, vanished, out of here. Teachers, mentors, lovers, children, spaces, named And then totally, and with out a doubt, forgotten With each step towards, or from, indifference. Like death, or catching a baby... I am one throw away from the answer But armless, a vet in a chair on a dare Dreaming of sex with no hang-ups And letters from a different time When moving could be done, together.

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xxx68.164.242.1510May 25, 2005 6:54 AM PDT
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