East Tenth Street

by September 28, 2017 0 comments

Brick by drunken brick
I pulled my tenement apart
& put it back together across the street
Or WOULD have, except that the building
Already standing there, which YOU
Were supposed to have taken apart
Last night, was still standing
There. So nothing
Got done. So nothing. So I
Am going around the corner
To the bar & having a beer while
You take that stupid building apart.

An interesting thing happened while
I was at the bar, to wit I blew the foam
Off the top of the beer and it drifted
Down onto the cheap pine top table
& turned into a garden. Events occurred
Among the tulips I am not at liberty
To divulge. Figures ambled down
The garden paths that I recognized
But can not name. Rosebuds were
Gathered and rose branches tied &
The only thing I could bring myself
To say was “Pass the pretzels,
Chaz,” & Chaz did, the bowl obliterating
The garden made of foam although
The pretzels were good, everything you
Could ask of pretzels and yet not too

I sighed and returned to where you
Had managed only to take apart nothing,
Not one lousy building, although you did
Crack a window pane. It is no use, you
Sighed and showed me your nails
Which I was forced to admit looked
Beautiful, which I was forced to admit
Would NOT look beautiful when you
Were done taking a tenement apart, even
If you were wearing gloves.

I said okay, okay, forget it, it’s fine,
Your nails are beautiful, let it go,
And I spread my hands in a gesture
(I thought) of dismissal, at which
The building flew apart and rose skyward
Like foam blown off a beer, corkscrewing
Up & up, and I gestured at my own
Building, & there it went, swirling skyward,
The drunken bricks weaving crazily
Around each other & you looked at me
With wonder & said my God! What
If they never come down??

editors note:

In every renovation lie the roots of revolution. When that old décor has got to go… – mh clay

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