(I’m in no way racist…just had a shitty shitty boss)
The Mexican man
yeah he do what he can
//
he talk big
he drink hard
ain’t got no lover
only his momma
to call
//
they say
he got
the brown nose
but not from
the burritos
the white boss
behind the whip
and Ol’ Taco
just do
what he told
//
livin’ alone
on the west side
probably where
he gonna die
but he come
across them tracks
in the daytime
too broke
to stay there
all night
so he go back
where he belong
where all them
other chicos from
//
over there
they don’t call
him
the Mexican man
they call him
Gringo’s friend
they tell him
to go back home
//
but after midnight
that bridge
back to
the east side
done already
close
//
too bad
for the Mexican man
just tryin’
to do
what he can
but he ain’t ever
gonna do enough
this city
just too damn tough
he dropped your auger
in thirty feet
of water
it was your dad’s
dad’s dad’s
and now
it’s at the bottom
of a lake
along with
your favorite
anchor
//
ess-oh-bee
//
he’s living in your house
marrying your daughter
fathering her kids
drinking the beer
you can’t afford
while you’ve been
outside mowing
the same spot
of grass
for the last
twenty years
//
you’d cut his brake lines
if it wasn’t your
pick-up
he’s driving
so you wait instead
while the grass grows
//
you just wait
The trains around here
only whistle
when something-
or somebody
is on the tracks
//
And lately
they’ve been loud
//
It’s the last thing
those folks hear,
a conductors last call
as he drops his explicit ‘zine
and knocks down his stale mug
of coffee
to sound one more warning
before the brakes,
the blistering halt
after the impact
//
Shortly followed by sirens
ripping the dead
night air
as the officials arrive
on the scene
and say some inappropriate
crack about misplaced
bodyparts
and not knowing Jesus
//
Meanwhile, the streets nearby
are lit with commotion
by neighbors gathering
in their dingy night gowns
for interviews
with some young virgin
reporting the local news
//
So society can react
to another story
they will get wrong
by lunch time
and forget
by dinner
//
But luckily those folks
never hear any of that,
no deafening metallic grind
no ambulance cry
no small town gossip
//
Just a whistle
//
As their feet vibrate
to the rhythm
of the railroad ties
//
They go out loud
but without a bang
just a final blow
of a familiar horn
as they catch their
last ride
he used to take
down
five cent mugs
and hazy eyed brawlers
every Thursday night
in some dive
outside Carbondale
where he grappled
for a year
and then moved
back
to that house
off Kilgore Avenue
on the edge of
town
just before streets
turned
into county roads
&
before that half Japanese
girl
with the cigarettes
and the red fastback
turned
into his wife
&
before his kids
had kids
and he
turned
some age over fifty
where he talks about
that year in Illinois
and how he used to
really
be able to take
a hit
before realizing
there was no point
in running wild
down the center line
if the highway was lost
to begin with
he used to say
he would never
turn back
now he just says
if you ever write
one of these damn things
about me
i don’t want to read it.
We danced. You used to dance me to sleep.
In that house by White River. Where the backyard
flooded every spring. And you wore a wool hat
every summer. When a meandering moccasin made
its way to your back porch. And you would catch it.
The same way you did that rat in a backroom
dryer vent. But better than the way you caught
your mind. Forgetting. Slipping. Forgotten. Gone.
Just like it never happened.
She reads
horoscopes
like
the forecast
checking
every morning
to see
if her day
will be
interrupted
with
bad karma
like
cold fronts
moving
across the
plains
or
the mind
“You will be deceived today.”
the weather
is
so unpredictable
this time
of
year
I knew a man
who lied about his age
to make up the time
he rode a bike without brakes
and landed on a bluegill bed
somewhere along White River
where he talked about the fellas
that hung around the banks
and robbed them with Tommy guns
held by family relatives
who gave him a thirty two
with three notches
to honor the dead
//
I knew a man
who stacked pins off Tillotson
at the age of eight
when his wife was scrubbing
some colored boy with a washboard
but didn’t know where
the dirt came from
that Laddy fell in
and who pushed his brother
into that gravel pit
//
I knew a man
who went AWOL
in a bottle of tequila
that grazed his lips
along with a girl he met
across the border of Texas
before some Private carried him
back to Fort God Save Us All
after he was accused
of rigging a push-up contest
//
I knew a man
who won the Golden Gloves
against some young scrub
named Bootsie Johnson
all because he could dance
around a ring
the same way he could dance
to old vinyls playing
The Wanderer and The Newbeats
//
I knew a man
who ate malt balls for breakfast
followed by two packs
of Marlboros
to fill the afternoons
spent grappling in a gym
wearing wool pants
and fifteen years of
living like Finn.
//
I knew a man
who was mistaken for McQueen
somewhere south of town
where his mother was known
for gambling after dark
with jealous fathers
of actors
who hung around
a new scene
//
I knew a man
who owned a blue row boat
and tin tackle box
filled with bobbers
he never used
for the fish
he never kept
it a secret-
that angling was
never about the win
as much as it was
about the wind
letting his oars
take a break
from this shallow channel
//
And I knew You
Jay Dee Lewis
You taught me
how to throw
a right hook
and rig a line
on a bamboo rod
//
You taught me
how to hum a tune
to Burl Ives
while skinning the cat
ten feet off the ground
//
You taught me
how to dive off
a wooden pier
on the lake that
froze the winter
you went through the ice
your wife broke
her arm on
that transparent concrete
in front of
the cottage where
//
You taught me this.
He was raised that way,
back then they all were
built like statues growing
up the way
their fathers taught them
to take a fist
like concrete jaws
of generations past
that beat life and wars
with twelve ounce gloves,
a glass of cheap scotch
and a loaded shot gun
that painted holes
in the wall
of the house by
the ball diamond
where your brother lost
two teeth in an alley
one finger in a bar fight
and three years in a jungle
