NOT THAT PERSON ANYMORE, MITCH BEING EVER FAINTER can't get to the island reserved for me the rich hold me back I have to make the rich a cup of tea they've shown up unexpectedly this morning; so, out buying tea for the rich I pee all over myself, under my housecoat, walking down the street. The pee evaporates quickly after all; if I can just get the rich out of my house I'll go off to the island. My lover's rented it for me to be alone on, for a day and a half. __________ All that stuff about E's was because all that stuff about E's was because I kept seeing E's graven on the cave walls a most common letter? E is for pee, the flood of commonality produced by tea, commonality The rich always have to have some of everyone's. __________ Fell into a despair yesterday afternoon the moment I was coming down with a light cold grieving, grieving for what, grieving for the future. An American West of colored plates in a library, library books: watercolor-pale sagebrush and paloverde trees, is a dream. Is it over? Pick up that cherry pit. Throw it away, it's sterile. __________ I saw him, what a jerk well he was acting friendly I ran past his car; felt guilty, a little but I had to keep on running stay faster than he was in order to stay so fast, to be just this fast. He always pretends to be nice, but he's dominating as hell. Everyone, for some reason, says, "What a nice man!" I ran right past him, forever? Is no such thing, I suppose, no such thing as hardly anything we do. All the best craftsmen, oh yes he's one of them...I'm better, but what's that -- a full grail? What's that? He thinks he knows what poetry is: what he and his friends write. __________ Dead roses from Neuilly. I crawled into the tumulus, that tomb, to see what was in there. Now I'm in here. I knew that -- the Will is dead here. I mean Mitch is sort of dead. __________ The grail's full of pee which smells like herbs. __________ A tall building in Barbe's an apartment on the top floor, un- remarkable, large; I visit it casually prepare to leave but the owner wants me killed for having seen it his "man" chases me I make it to elevator door shuts, descent, struggle of buttons as I'm halfway down, with his "up" button he tries to pull me back up but I press my "down" button hard, hold it I win. I escape temporarily I think, what a tacky movie! later that night, on the Bowery, in a 40's movie with The Bowery Boys I've been accepted as dark in the bodega, they said I was dark enough to hang out on the stoop I'm young and beautiful, denim skirt, jewelry. The man called The Snowman gets out of his car and says repeatedly to me, "I'm gonna shape you up!" I laugh; I don't have to do anything but be a poet. __________ Heads of state, males dressed like sheikhs kiss each other on the lips they're really vying to perform a favor for an international celebrity -- another man an athlete or singer -- in a large empty room with a microphone -- they're pecking, pecking. __________ ...a radiant paloverde tree a heavenly tree in my mother's backyard: a dream. __________ Enter earth through narrow cave as at Sisteron walking through corridor, behind others holding candlelights, haloes. Then room dark, people asleep on the ground in a rose formation, bodies curved petals. And there's nothing else here, right now all my mysteries are up there in the fragile upper air. __________ Once more evinced a cruder personality to talk to someone who's difficult for me. World of half-light Don't really have to take care of myself I've come down to the ground floor; now I'm coming up to it Alice Notley Index |
The East Village Poetry Web Alice Notley |