DISLOCATIONS: SEVEN SCENARIOS

1

Still learning the word

“home” or what it could mean

 say, to relinquish

a backdrop of Japanese maples turning

color of rusted wheelbarrow bottom

where the dahlia tubers were thrown

You must go live in the city now

over the subway though not on

 its grating

must endure the foreign music

of the block party

finger in useless anger

the dangling cords of the window blind

2

In a vast dystopic space the small things

multiply

when all the pills run out the pain

grows more general

flies find the many eyes

quarrels thicken then

 weaken

tiny mandibles of rumor open and close

blame has a name that will not be spoken

you grasp or share a clot of food

according to your nature

or your strength

love’s ferocity snarls

from under the drenched blanket’s hood

3

City and world: this infection drinks like a drinker

whatever it can

casual salutations first

little rivulets of thought

then wanting stronger stuff

sucks at the marrow of selves

the nurse’s long knowledge of wounds

the rabbi’s scroll of ethics

the young worker’s defiance

only the solipsist seems intact

in her prewar building

4

For recalcitrancy of attitude

the surgeon is transferred

to the V.A. hospital where poverty

is the administrator

of necessity and her

orders don’t necessarily

get obeyed

because

the government

is paying

and the

used-to-be

warriors

are patients

5

Faces in the mesh: defiance or disdain

remember Paul Nizan?

You thought you were innocent if you said

“I love this woman and I want to live

in accordance with my love”

but you were beginning the revolution

maybe so, maybe not

look at her now

pale lips papery flesh

at your creased belly wrinkled sac

look at the scars

reality’s autographs

along your ribs across her haunches

look at the collarbone’s reverberant line

how in a body can defiance

still embrace its likeness

6

Not to get up and go back to the drafting table

where failure crouches accusing

like the math test you bluffed and flunked

so early on

not to drag into the window’s

cruel and truthful light your blunder

not to start over

but to turn your back, saying

all anyway is compromise

impotence and collusion

from here on I will be no part of it

is one way could you afford it

7

Tonight someone will sleep in a stripped apartment

the last domestic traces, cup and towel

awaiting final disposal

—has ironed his shirt for travel

left an envelope for the cleaning woman

on the counter under the iron

internationalist turning toward home

three continents to cross documents declarations

searches queues

and home no simple matter

of hearth or harbor

bleeding from internal wounds

he diagnosed physician

without frontiers

2002